Catalyst
by Insanity 101
Summary: Robin returns to Jump City, though the joy of seeing Titans Tower again is deadened by the tragedy that meets him there. Sequel to Aftereffects and Broken, RaeXRob. Batman Begins crossover.
1. Understanding

_Hello all. Hmm...I didn't plan on doing this for quite some time, but...the inspiration finally got the better of me. And, well, it was my day of creation, if you will, not long ago, so I thought I'd give you guys a present. Hoping this will please Mystyre (since she asked the most for it :) and everyone else that read Aftereffects and Broken. Attention New Comers! I highly suggested you go read the stories mentioned, but especially The Reason; without that you will be utterly lost. Ahem, keep in mind that updates will be slow. Ok, I think that's it! ON WITH THE STORY, finally.

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_

"BRUCE! _BRUCE_!"

Robin's voice cracked from the strain as he bashed his hip on the banister, leaping down the stairs three at a time. He felt horror cloud his senses, a rush of white noise drowning out all but the frantic beating of his heart.

**we don't want to bother you, but...ravens missing. **

"Richard! What? What is it?" Bruce's face was stark white as he caught Robin by the shoulders, searching franticly for the injury. From the way he had been screaming, there must be blood somewhere.

"Email--Gone--Rae--Have to go--S-Slade--" The words poured from Robin's mouth in a senseless stream as the rushing noise intensified, his knees buckling beneath him.

Bruce tipped slightly, but he quickly adjusted to the new weight. Watching Richard's eyes cloud and roll, he swore quietly and picked him up, setting him down on a stair and placing his head between his knees. It might be too late, but it was worth a try. "Breathe, Robin. Shh, just breathe..."

The voice was calm and soothing, so much so in fact that it seemed to hypnotize him into doing its bidding. It seemed to take an eternity, but his head eventually cleared, his heart beating normally once again and the rushing noise subsiding.

Bruce waited for him to lift his head before speaking, voice calm and careful. "Now...let's try that again. What happened?"

Robin sighed, fighting to keep himself calm. "I got an email, but it wasn't from Raven, it was from Mina, and she said that Raven's gone mis--" his throat caught at that point, and he buried his head in his hands, eyes wide. "I shouldn't have come here," he whispered. "I deserted her...now anything that...that happens is my fault._ So what in hell are you waiting for?_

Surprising even Bruce, Robin leapt from the stair and raced for the big double doors as though he had every intention of running to Jump City in the rain...but he didn't get far.

Robin's eyes went wide as he stared at the muscled arms wrapped tightly around his torso. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

"Stop, Richard. Think. What are you running into?" Bruce's voice was low yet firm, just as it had always been during their training.

"I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS!"

"You don't have time to think?" asked Bruce, an eyebrow raised.

"I HAVE TO STOP HIM! LET ME GO!" The Boy Wonder struggled with all his might, trying every evasive manuever in the book, but Bruce held on.

"The last time I 'let you go'," snapped Bruce, sweat standing out on his forehead as he fought to keep Robin still, "you came back physically and mentally trashed. All I'm asking you to do is think, Richard! Think first for once in your life!"

Little by little, Robin's struggles subsided as the words began to penetrate at last. Bruce didn't loosen his grip, however. "I _have _ thought. I've thought about everything. I think _too much_." His face paled, a look that he had not worn for several months creeping into his features.

Bruce had softened somewhat when he replied. "No, you haven't. You haven't considered the possibility that this may be a-- So help me, Richard, if you don't shut your mouth...!" Well...he _was_ soft.

The Dark Knight left his threat hanging, but Robin got the message. "You haven't considered the fact that this may be a trap. You haven't thought of the possibility that Raven is not missing at all. You've given no thought whatsoever to your current fighting condition, and heaven forbid, you actually ask what I think you should do."

"You think I care about any of that? Do you think I care about traps or...or fighting condition? _Raven_, Bruce!" His chest heaved for a moment, emotion coursing painfully through him. Something malicious and cruel awoke in the forefront of his conscious. "But you wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

Bruce froze, his dark eyes wide as they rested on Richard's hardened features. "What?"

"You've never loved someone like that, have you? No...you're too busy thinking about yourself to take time for anyone else. Besides, they might hurt you." Robin was shaking now, a smirk that looked painful plastered on his face. All that mattered was hurting the closest person to him: Bruce.

His mentor's face had drained of all color. "That's enough, Robin."

"You have no idea what it's like to give your whole heart to someone. But then, you can't really give something you never had in the first place." The shaking had grown more violent, though his voice was steady, as a single tear made its way down his cheek. This would make it better...

"I said, that's enough!" growled Bruce, a fire erupting in his eyes.

Robin couldn't stop, it just kept coming. "You're just a selfish, withdrawn, obsessive fre--"

"RACHEL!"

Ringing silence fell as Robin's eyes widened in shock, the tiniest hint of fear awaking inside him as Bruce panted for breath, fists clenched and eyes burning. Guilt fell like lead inside the Boy Wonder as he realized the wound he had cruelly broken open. Choking wordlessly a few times, he at last managed a small, "Bruce...I..." It wasn't Bruce he was angry at. It wasn't Bruce he wanted to hurt.

"Don't." Batman's face was as white as paper, dark circles and worry wrinkled more prominent than usual. "You're accusation was fair...if not entirely true."

Robin could only stare, his stomach twisting in horror. Rachel...? That meant... Somehow he had never thought of him that way. True, there were plenty of rumors circulating about the "billionaire playboy" Bruce Wayne, but never, not even once, had Robin suspected Batman of falling in love. If he accepted that, he would have to accept the fact that Bruce was human...a terrifying concept. It was so much easier to think of him as the cold, unfeeling Dark Knight of Gotham City. What ever happened to her...?

As though reading his mind, Bruce said, in a forcefully measured voice, "I learned very early on that a superhero rarely, if ever, gets what he or she wants. We exist to serve the people, not the other way around."

Robin remained in stunned silence, completely shocked. Bruce had never talked to him like this before; he wasn't speaking in the blunt, hardened tones of lecture, but with the barest undertone of regret mixed with forced apathy. It was so unlike him...

Ah, at last, a familiar gesture. Bruce began to pace, covering a small section of the entrance hall in short, precise steps. His hands were not clasped behind his back, but straight at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching with the rhythm of his steps. "Your situation is different, in some ways, but essentially, it creates the same set of problems. You love Raven so much that you would do almost anything (if not anything at all) to keep her safe and happy. What may at first seem your greatest strength quickly becomes your greatest weakness."

Oh yes, that was Batman all right. Robin felt blood rush to his face as Batman stated matter-of-factly the purest and deepest truths of his soul. He struggled to keep his mouth shut, however, knowing that there was more.

"You aren't just some air-headed teenager whose problems disappear as soon as the girl says 'yes'. That moment is when your problems _begin_. From then on you and your lover must maintain the highest level of secrecy, hiding your relationship from all but the most trusted alliances. Should the information ever fall into the wrong hands...you would be put in the one situation that every hero bends over backward to avoid. You would have to choose."

It was Robin's turn to pale, the shaking coming back in full force as Bruce ceased his pacing to fix the Boy Wonder with a piercing yet not unkind gaze. Robin knew what was coming next.

"Richard...It's time."

_"There is one way to save her, Robin...but I'm sure you are unwilling to do it."_

He took a long shuddering breath, fighting to keep his voice under control as the pain awoke in unused passages of memory. "Slade...he knows. He knows everything, he--"

_"Excellent. Now tell me, once and for all, **who is Batman**?"_

Robin's eyes burned as a lump formed in his throat and stomach, but he struggled to continue, instinct telling him that somehow, this would help. "He u-used Raven...he was going to k-kill her, Bruce...unless I t-told him..."

_A deafening shot tore through his eardrums. Even as it played out before his eyes, his mind could not comprehend it. **Raven's** blood. On **his** hands._

"I-I couldn't, Bruce. I c-couldn't l-let him...n-not Raven..." He choked, swallowing hard and bowing his head. This was a thousand times harder than he ever could have imagined.

_The blast echoed through the silent building as the speeding bullet collided with Batman's chest. A sharp intake of breath rasped in the defeaning silence as Batman stumbled backward, eyes wide with shock and pain._

Robin tried to breathe, but it didn't work. "Listen, I...Bruce, I--" His voice at last siezed up. All he could do was stare at his godfather and hope that somehow the message was communicated. He _never_ meant for any of it to happen...

Again, the words seemed to burrow straight to the core of his thoughts as Bruce spoke gently. "I know. And..." He let out a gusty sigh, ruffling his hair in a way that was strangely familiar. "It wasn't your fault. None of it. Ok?"

Robin nodded slowly, hoping that it might release the vice-like grip on his chest. Maybe it was the fact that he still couldn't believe the words, but it didn't.

The gravity of his situation returned to him in a guilty flash, his chest becoming, if possible, even tigher. "B-but Raven--"

"Don't panic, I won't make you stay here." Bruce smiled ever-so-slightly, gripping Robin's shoulder comfortingly.

A breath of relief escaped as the Boy Wonder felt some of the pressure release. "Good...um, thank you...for everything. I'll call..."

"That won't be necessary."

Robin looked up, eyebrows raised in question.

Batman's smile got a little wider, the smallest hint of mischief flashing in his eyes. "Because you're going with me."

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_Um...was that a cliffhanger? Oh well, you're used to them by now, right? Hey, just cause they worked out some things doesn't mean they never fight. Had to throw in some stuff from Batman Begins... As always, I would like to give a big shout-out of appreciation to Furubafun24 for all her encouragement and assistance in all aspects. Thank you so much, all of you. I'll update as soon as I can. -Dusty_


	2. House, not Home

_Thank you to all the returning reviewers...I couldn't find any notice against reviewer response on fanfic, but I suppose I'll just continue as I have been until I'm sure. CDT, I'm ever-so-glad that I could make you ever-so-happy:D Dustinator? I like that! Hiss, put it on my luggage! There's nothing to apologize for, finalitylife, but thank you. Um...well I didn't want anybody to feel pressured into saying happy birthday or anything, jambey. I just thought I'd explain why I wrote it...Yup, fifteen, and so far it's the same as fourteen, only it has less letters. LOL me too, Mystyre. Hmm...I think you might like this chapter then. You play second fiddle? Sweet! (sniggle) Carpal Tunnel...eek I never thought of that. Think I'm seriously risking it...lol. (sniff) A cliffhanger makes a bad start AriesFalcon? Now I'm sad... I'm glad I could improve your congested state, psycicflower. _

_Ok, I had some extra time this weekend so I thought I would update. The next chap will not be coming til next weekend. ON WITH THE STORY!

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Mina sighed, rubbing her temples violently in an attempt to get rid of the tension headache she'd had since yesterday morning. Raven was gone...and Robin wasn't responding. What to do?

Cyborg just didn't understand what this meant, and how could he? The virus had claimed the last three months of his life. He just kept insisting that Raven had taken a much needed vacation. Beast Boy and Starfire knew better, but their desperate searches of the city streets were doing no good. She needed Robin. After all, she had only been a Titan for a little over a year. She wasn't even _near _ready to lead! She just...needed him to come home. The thing that shamed her was the fact that Raven was not her only reason for wanting him back.

Growling in frustration, she hit herself several times with the flat of her palm in hopes of dislodging the thoughts she really shouldn't have had in the first place. Raven was her best friend, Robin was (technically) her team leader. He was taken, whole-heartedly _taken, _and the last thing she was going to do was stoop low enough to steal that from her best friend. Ha! As if she could in the first place.

"Arrgh...Robin, where _are_ you?"

"Right here."

Mina jumped a good foot off the computer chair, whipping around with a sharp gasp. "Robin! Crap, you scared the--"

Her eyes got a good two sizes bigger as a flaming blush spread like wildfire over her skin. It was amazing how you could think yourself over something until it was standing before your eyes. She fought hard to keep her gaze fixed on the mask, but the effort was in vain. He was...was...um...maybe it would be easier just to say that he was the complete opposite of the heart-rendingly thin and haunted looking boy she remembered.

"Where is she? Have you found her? When did she disappear? Wherearetheothers? Whataretheydoingtohelp?Why--"

Batman appeared behind him, silencing him with a light touch on the shoulder. Smiling, he approached Mina with one massive gloved hand held out. "Hello, Mina. It's good to see you again."

The euphoria that had coursed through her now leaned more towards the painful side. It was so hard, having the one you...liked strongly right in front of you and knowing that he was a good thousand miles out of your reach. Shaking her head, she stuttered a little in replying. "H-hi, good to see you, too."

"Let's sit down, shall we? Robin?" The last part was a little more commanding, since the Boy Wonder had shown no inclination to be seated. With an agitated sigh, he sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, studying its surface as though to distract himself.

Robin's eyebrows furrowed. "Where did this one come from?"

"What?"

Robin tapped a small purple spot on the sofa cushion. "It's new. Where'd it come from?"

Mina laughed, feeling some of the tension in her head release. "Grape soda. We had a movie night, and Beast Boy was really hyper-twitchy, you know? So, when the kid turned around and the back of his head was blown off, he jumped about five feet in the air. Spilled his drink all over the place. I guess Raven missed a..." She swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the look on his face. "...Spot."

A few seconds later, Robin cleared his throat and put on a smile that was more haunting than happy. "That...that definitely sounds like BB." Maybe he wasn't so different from that boy after all.

The lump in her throat refused to be suppressed. She wanted to say something, anything to make him feel better, but dumb silence was all she could manage. Nothing she could do or say would repair the years of damage.

Silence reigned for what felt like an eternity; Mina fidgeted with her clothes and darted glances at the Dynamic Duo, Batman admired the view of Jump City, and Robin sat completely still, his face unreadable.

When the silence was broken, it was by the last person she would have expected: Robin.

"You've done so much for this team...for _me_." The last word seemed to leave a sour taste in his mouth. He struggled a little before continuing. "I don't think I could ever really say how much I appreciate that. I...I know that Raven..." he choked, a hollow sound in his voice, "Raven is so glad to have you."

Mina's eyebrows formed a small peak as her stomach lurched and dropped with intense sympathy, not to mention the affect those words had on her. "Thank you, Robin..." She mentally cursed herself, but it was the best she could do. The feelings refused to be translated.

He nodded slowly, his body tense as though that was the only thing keeping him from falling to the floor. She had never seen someone so lost before.

Batman cleared his throat quietly, the small noise making both of them jump. "It's late, even by my standards. We won't make any progress if we're falling over in exhaustion. I think we should call it a night, get a fresh start in the morning." It was worded as though they had a choice, but both knew that they didn't.

Robin bobbed his head slightly, standing with the same tension he possessed while sitting. Glancing uncertainly at Mina, he muttered, "Is my...Do I still...?"

Mina hastened to reply. "Your room is just the way you left it. Well...maybe a little cleaner." She smiled weakly, but was disappointed in Robin's reaction. He merely nodded again, then slipped through the doors, the gentle woosh strangely loud in the silent room.

Maybe he had caught sight of the wistful look on her face, maybe it was just instinct. Batman placed a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's not your fault. He's just...not himself right now."

Mina's reaction surprised even her. The tell-tale burn of oncoming tears washed over her as her throat closed up and air became hard to come by. _"No...nonono..." _She _hated_ this, she wouldn't...she WOULDN'T!

She started talking, one word streaming aimlessly after the next, a train of thought that made no sense in her mind or her ears, one meaningless ramble spewed in hopes of stopping the flood of tears. It was in vain, of course. Mina knew it would be from the beginning.

Like any storm, the tears grew worse before they diminished. Everything seemed to hit her, every thought and feeling, every moment of despair and undeserved joy. It all came out at once, and she was powerless to stop it. This was the second time she had cried for Robin. Two out of three.

After what seemed like ages, she calmed down enough to acknowledge the comforting embrace that surrounded her. Shock jolted her mind as she made the connection between the reserved Dark Knight and the hug she was recieving...Embarassment was almost instantaneous. She must look like such a baby.

Gently pulling back, she jerked a hand across her cheek as a wave of exhaustion threatened to overcome her. "I...I'm sorry, I--"

"Don't be." Batman smiled gently down at her, taking away the awkward feeling effortlessly. "No one can be fine all the time. Everyone has a breaking point."

Mina nodded gravely, one look at his face telling her exactly what he meant.

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Mina was right, it was a lot cleaner than he'd left it. The carpet was free of the crumbled pieces of paper and shards of glass he hadn't bothered to clean up, the bed was made, his desk was organized; the articles on the wall, however, were untouched. Raven must have done it.

He vaguely realized that he was alone, he could relax now, no one was watching or expecting or taking note. He could let it out if he wanted...

Robin took a few robotic steps toward the bed, but his spine was too stiff to let him sleep. He felt out of place, as though he was in someone else's body, in someone else's room, in someone else's home, surrounded by someone else's friends. A year was a very long time.

The silence magnified every sound, and he soon became aware of the familiar hum of a computer. Mildly curious, he sat down in the chair, noticing with the ghost of a smile that a purple mug sat on the coaster next to the keyboard. Raven. She was everywhere here...even the air held her delicate scent. It only made her absence more obvious.

A small jiggle of the mouse showed that he was already logged on, a window open on the screen. Robin's eyes widened in surprise, then began to burn.

**To: Wonder Boy (the-one-and-only)**

**From: Rae (quoththeraven)**

**You too, huh?**

**Lol glad to hear that you're finally getting him back. I'm sure he's happy to see you improving. Bathead? Hmmm...that's original. Is the staff really fifty pounds, or are you just exagerating?**

**Ew...you don't even want to know the image I got from that. You and I both know that you were never fat, Robin, so I'm guessing that would mean you are no longer anorexic and your uniform is no longer two sizes too big for you. Yes, I am glad to hear it...being that thin is far from attractive, Wonder Bread. Hmm...that sounds interesting. Sure, get the recipe if you want. Blueberry waffles? I've heard of blueberry pancakes, but not waffles. Are they really that good?**

**_sigh_ Well...the tower is still standing. Mina is doing quite well...she's moving right along with her training and improving with each lesson. I expected her to befriend Starfire or Beast Boy, but, oddly enough, she's taken to hanging out with me. And my room doesn't frighten her in the least. Well...lets just say they are still, for the most part, intact. Cyborg still doesn't seem too pleased about your decision, but he listens to my orders and shows me some kind of respect. Lets see...some idiot who appears to be a flower child and wants to "spread the love" in an exceedingly violent way, a couple of gangs, an alien (no, not Starfire), and a rabid werebunny. Other than that, nothing new. Larry? No.**

Robin was laughing and crying at the same time, both sadness and joy overwhelming his mind until he was no longer sure what he was feeling.

**It's lovely, thank you, Robin. I'm not even going to ask how you knew I was drinking some.**

"You always have a cup of tea at night."

**Wow...I almost needed a Delirious Boy Wonder translator for that one. Lets see...somehow I can picture you swallowing China quite vividly. I'm sure I will sleep just fine, and I have no doubts that you will as well. ily too.**

**Robin...when are you coming home?**

Pain flooded his senses; guilt, regret, love. Too much and too many.

"I'm here now."

He was here...but Raven was gone.

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_Ok...coupe things. The movie I was talking about was The Sixth Sense. Now, I don't want to get any reviews asking if this is a Mina/Bruce pairing, cuz guess what? IT AIN'T! If you saw a girl break down sobbing, you'd want to comfort her, wouldn't you? He just kinda took on the dad role, it's not all that odd for him, considering. This chapter is dedicated to Furubafun24, for reasons she will understand. :D Reviews make me happy. See you next weekend! -Dusty_


	3. Project X

_Hello all! I hauled butt and got my homework done in time to update...aren't you just the luckiest bunch? Hmm...before I forget, the song Stand Up, by Trapt could very much be considered the theme song for this story...go listen to the words and I think you'll see why. _

_Mystyre: LOL honestly, it was entirely unintentional. It's all the paranoia talking. Yeah...I think she was too embarrassed to enjoy it properly however. Yes, I planned on him finding it...it's important, as you will soon see. _

_jambey: Hey! I'll have you remember that Cyborg was very nice in All In The Game and Even In Death, so ha! Ah yes, love is cruel. I'm not a prat, prat. Lol. _

_AriesFalcon: LOL yeah it's ok. Glad you like her._

_R of the N676: Nope...I'm afraid I'll be leaving that until Robin sees her, for reasons that I could but won't explain. :P_

_Mina: Yes, I dedicated it to you because that whole section was inspired by our emails and the things we've discussed in them. I'm so glad, I wanted the beginning to be very emotional but I was worried that people were thinking, "Ok, when is this going to get good?" I just want to inspire some feelings and thoughts before I get into the plot, and it's all tying in besides. I'm sorry everything's so busy right now for you, and I understand, so don't beat yourself up about it. I love to hear from you, but I don't want to distract from what's important. I hoped that it would be in a helpful way...I didn't mean for it to be depressing. :D You have no idea how excited or how grateful or how shocked I am that you would do that for me! -hugs-_

_CDT: Spiftily? Ah, I love you. I should hire you to come up with all my quirky new words. You just never know...somebody said Broken was a SladeXRobin so I suppose you can never be too careful. Good luck with Spanish!_

_psychicflower: Yes, it is very wrong. People can be twisted though. LOL I specialize in deep stuff, this is true. Sorry about your cold. _

_Thank you to everyone else who reviewed, time limits don't allow me to reply to all. ON WITH THE STORY!

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The next morning dawned, whether he wanted it to or not.

Have you ever been going along fine, your mind focused on the task at hand, feeling content and happy just because the sun was out and your heart was beating? You never looked back farther than what you ate for lunch, never looked ahead farther than where you would put your foot next, and tricked yourself into believing that all was right with the world. You didn't see the lightning until it pierced your heart.

Robin stared straight ahead to see the remains of a metal frame resting in the shadows beneath his bed. His body was stiff from sleeping on the floor and cold from the sweat that had dried in the minutes since he woke up. Lying completely still and trying not to think, he felt his eyes burn again, the built-in dam shuddering with the force of the onslaught. Everything he'd done...all the progress he'd made...was it all for nothing? Did any of it really matter now? Raven was his only reason for doing it in the first place...what happened when his reason was--

Boy Wonder brought the thought process to a screeching hault as he leapt to his feet, fighting until he had cleared his face of all emotion. True, he hadn't quite achieved the smooth surface of a lake; more the unforgiving face of a sheer cliff wall, but it was improvement all the same.

His morning routine was so ingrained that he was showered and dressed before he had consciously decided to get up.

Robin's battered suitcase lay beside the bed where he had dropped it last night. It was old and abused, held together with a good nine years of duct tape, super glue, rope, and, in some places, chewing gum. That had been a last-stitch effort, and it just never came off after that. Bruce cringed ever time he saw the thing, but Robin loved it. The front still had their trade mark on it: three overlapping **G**'s surrounded by a curvy circle. The emblem was faded, but still visible against the red background.

He might as well unpack.

The suitcase had been packed haphazardly; both dirty and clean clothes were thrown here and there (he had become so accustomed to wearing normal clothes that he forgot he wouldn't need them here), the new utility belt that Batman had given him, and, at the very bottom, a simple cardboard box. Knowing full well the affect this would have on him, Robin lifted the lid.

Immediately the memories flooded through him, every uncovered photo or paper bringing image after image and emtion after emotion.

_A day at the park._

_Beating Cyborg's high score._

_Sunrise on the roof._

_Raven's fifteenth birthday._

_Beast Boy's moped._

_Starfire's discovery of the mall's photo booth._

The closer he came to the bottom, the more recent the memories, which meant that any minute now... And there he was.

_**Slade.**_

_Volleyball with Terra._

_**Slade.**_

_Forced movie night._

_**Slade.**_

_Starfire._

_**Slade.**_

_Beast Boy._

_**Slade.**_

_Cyborg._

_**Slade.**_

_Raven._

_**Slade.**_

**_Slade._**

_**SLADE.**_

With a roar that was half anger and half pain, Robin threw the box with as much force as he could muster and watched it crash into the wall, its contents tumbling out and fluttering to the ground. One article in particular flew half-way across the room, and Robin's eyes followed it as it came to rest barely an inch from his heaving form. A single gray eye glared up at him.

"SHIT!"

Robin jerked a hand forward and tore the article to shreds, destroying the eye...only to find that thousands more were still fixed on him from all sides. He moved from the article as his feet to the ones taped to the walls, ripping down each and every one and tearing the eye apart until no one could possibly reconstruct it. Robin did not rest until every last image was in ruined pieces on the ground, covering the carpet until it was hardly visible. Slade was gone...

If only.

Back to the wall, Robin slid to the ground and drew up his knees. The last three years of his life had revolved completely around Slade. At first, he had been determined to defeat him physically. When that failed, he threw himself into digging up dirt to weaken him emotionally. When that failed as well, he put all his energy into wishing that Slade would just go away. That had obviously gotten him nowhere.

Robin stared down at the photo in his hand, an overwhelming sense of loneliness bringing a hollow ache. The picture was a good three years old, judging by his stature (or lack thereof). Raven was standing next to him, arms folded across her chest and a small smirk on her lips, while he looked slightly confused. Starfire had pounced on them, insisting that she must "take a picture of this momentous occasion". Only after the photo shoot had they realized what that occasion was exactly: they had gotten through an entire day without arguing.

Who could have predicted all that would happen to them in the years to come? Who could have guessed at everything they would survive together?

The photo was it in a nutshell; Raven was what got him through every new level of hell Slade conjured up. Raven had been there for him when the dust nearly took his life. She supported him when everyone else thought he was insane or worse. When he felt like giving in, she did everything she could to change his mind. Raven was the only reason he wasn't dead today, whether by his own hand or Slade's.

Imagining the outcome without her was like watching a leaf dropped into a raging inferno--hopeless. When he was with Batman, he encouraged himself in the knowledge that every day brought him closer to coming back, closer to seeing Raven. He had never--not even once--questioned the fact that she would be here when that day came. Where was she...?

_Shock...a hand pressed roughly against his mouth...the taste of copper on his tongue... Help, had to get help..."Robin, when...?" Robin. Help. Help me, Robin... Robin!_

Robin gasped, shaken by how real the supposed memory felt. This was the dream he had about Raven, the one from the night before he recieved the email from Mina. He strained his mind for more details, but that was all...the rest was black.

Biting his lip furiously, he glared into empty space, analyzing the information for anything he may have overlooked. Shock...the attacker must have come from behind, giving Raven no chance to react. Copper, something shoved against the mouth...chloroform? He remembered seeing one typed sentence, standing out where everything else was blurred. "Robin, when...?" When... Of course! The last line in the email! "Robin, when are you coming home?" Raven had just finished the email when she was attacked; she was still facing the screen, even. The attack occurred _in this very room. _Blackness would indicate that she had passed out, or at least serverred the mental link (if it was indeed a mental link).

Robin leapt to his feet, running until he was about a foot away from the computer desk. Here he stopped, dropped to his knees, and began the tedious chore of picking up and tossing aside each individual piece of paper (trust me, there were many). When he was halfway under the desk and beginning to lose hope, he saw a piece that was considerably larger than the rest. On closer inspection, the Boy Wonder found that it was a plain white paper, perfectly folded and entirely unmarked by dirt or smudge.

He fought to steady his hands as he sat back on his heels and unfolded the stiff white paper.

_**We have a score to settle, you and I.**_

_**You know where to find me.**_

_**-S-**_

He shook wildly, his mouth as dry as dust and as gritty as sand, his brow beaded with cold sweat as the message echoed over and over in his mind. "We have a score to settle, you and I." Slade had sworn to kill him for breaking the oath he had been blackmailed into taking; this fact changed everything. As horrible as it had been before, he was blessed in the fact that Slade never intended to actually destroy him. Now that he was facing the man's wrath in its entirety...

"He's not the only one who's improved."

Up to this point, Robin had hoped that Slade would eventually leave, like the school bully that finally got sick of teasing without reation, and maybe this hope had kept him from really getting furious with the entire situation. But now...now it was a death match. A death match for _Raven_, no less.

A fire was burning away behind the mask; tiny windows opened into the dormant (for now) volcano within. He was cordially invited; the note said it plainly. A grin that held more rage and pain than ever before stretched the muscles taut on his face, his chest heaving as adrenaline pumped through his veins. "I know where to find you...

"I just hope you're ready for me."

* * *

Batman looked up from the mug of black coffee as his cell phone rang, breaking the silence of early morning. Flipping it open, he muttered a slightly gruff, "Yes?"

_"Good morning, sir. I imagine you got there in one piece then?"_

Batman smiled, relaxing at the familiar British accent. "More or less. I trust everything's fine there?"

There was a pause, slight static the only sound on the other end. Growing uneasy, Batman broke the silence. "...What?"  
Alfred spoke at last, a hint of worry in his tone. _"Now that you mention it, Master Wayne...there's been a spot of bother at Wayne Enterprises."_

"What?" Batman repeated, his voice considerably darker this time.

_"I'm afraid there was...a break in. An unidentified thief stole some plans, apparently, for a new project...?"_

Batman's mouth went dry. "What project? What project was it, Alfred? What did they take?"

_"A project x something or other. Is that a codename, sir?"_

The Dark Knight's eyes widened, a whispered curse escaping his lips as he dropped the phone and ran flat-out, praying he wasn't too late to stop Robin... Why hadn't he seen it!

_"Master Wayne? ...Bruce?"

* * *

_

_Booya! There it is, the third chapter. It may have seemed boring but this chap was actually quite important to the story...the next one should be kicking into the main plot, so be ready for that. Reviews are like Frooties...if you don't know what Frooties are, well...Reviews are good. -Dusty_


	4. Stand UP

_Hi! No I'm not dead, surprisingly enough. School did its best to murder me, not to mention a Beach Boys concert and assisting my sister with sealer jobs, but they did not prevail, I tell you! –clears throat- Again, I call your attention to the song Stand Up, by Trapt. Also, I highly suggested you go your merry rear ends to Chapter 16 of Aftereffects, because you will need that refreshing._

_CDT: FRICKACINNO! Agh, I love you! You are now my official Nifty-Word-Creator-In-Chief! –shakes hand vigorously- Your reactions to my chapters rank with the best:D Hope to see you reviewing in times to come!_

_Riawolf: Do update when you get the chance, I want to see what I do to BB next._

_Jambey: Hey! Alfred's a brit, after all. Besides, I'm going for more the Batman Begins version. Ha! We had homework from the registration day! And you got a later start so quit your belly achin'! Not offended…and frooties are like tootsie rolls only smaller and fruitier._

_Mystyre: Ah yes, the old tricks. :D I just love them so, and Slade…well it's very hard to have a story without Slade. –raises beer bottle in toast…minus the beer bottle-_

_Ravenslair: Patience! Patience, my love! Er…-cough- Sorry, too much Gollum._

_Mina: That part made ME shudder…and I wrote it! Ahah, yes I wanted to bring back Robin's drive to win in this story…he's going to be a much stronger fighter in this than he was in the previous two. Oh yes, laundry is a riot. :D_

_Psychicflower: Yup, like tootsie rolls only not. LOL yes, I hoped you guys would appreciate that…gotta bring back some old school now and then. Patience, Psychic. Patience._

_AriesFalcon: By the by, I've been watching Naruto, and so far…the only person I really like is Kakashi Sensai…he seriously rules. Sasuke (sp) is getting more tolerable though. Hate Sakura. Naruto's voice gives me a headache lol._

_Peppermint Sticks: Hmm…glad you like it, and always good to get a convert (in case you were wondering, that was a little jab at the insane shippers around this place). Nah, even if you didn't like Rae/Rob I wouldn't stoop to insults and that. LOL yeah I share that opinion. Sounds good, I'd like to read a Rae/Rob story of yours. LOL I'm morbidly curious…what is this most hated pairing of yours? –blinks- Wow, I'm honored. :D Thank you for your review, always a pleasure to meet a reader._

_Logan X: Wow, thanks! I do my best. I'm glad you enjoy having Batman in these…some people disagree and some people just plain old hate him, but in my opinion, you gotta love the Bat.

* * *

_

"Bruce…? Hello? Master Wayne!"

Alfred muttered a small and very mild curse as he placed the phone back on its receiver, a look of worry on his already care worn face. He recognized that tone…it meant that some kind of mortal peril was surely approaching…and when it arrived, he would be stuck here, hundreds of miles away and completely useless.

For one wild moment, Alfred seriously considered packing his bag and leaving for Jump City himself…but that was impossible. Who would watch the manor? Who would watch the company? Who would watch Gotham, for heaven's sake!

With a deep frown and a frustrated sigh, Alfred sank onto the armchair. He couldn't help but appreciate how soft it was…so this was what it felt like. When you're doing housekeeping for Wayne Manor, you don't get much of an opportunity to put your feet up.

What kind of trouble was Master Wayne getting himself into this time? No doubt tangling with that nasty Slade character. What little he had heard of that man's deeds told him enough to make him sick, and he certainly didn't have a weak stomach. The man was an absolute disgrace to humanity.

Realizing that speculation was pointless, he was on the point of getting up to find something to busy himself with when there was a burst of light, no more than a second long yet so painful…

And suddenly, he was not doing anything at all.

* * *

It was still fairly dark when Robin reached his destination, a blue haze spread over the world like a blanket, the air cold and biting. Morning was fast approaching, however. The faint orange horizon glow said so.

Robin growled low in the back of his throat, gloved hands clenched at his sides as he took the narrow twists and turns as though he could have done it in his sleep. Ha! He _could_ do it in his sleep. He'd proved that a thousand times over.

**We have a score to settle, you and I.  
****You know where to find me.**

Slade had possessed many haunts in the time that Robin knew him, but the Boy Wonder had pinpointed the one that rang true. Call it instinct, call it educated guessing, but Robin was headed for the first lair—the place that started it all.

_"So, here we are again. The old haunt…just the two of us."_

_"Slade! Show yourself! Come out and fight!"_

_"Relax, Robin. I'm not going anywhere."_

His eyes darted from side to side, the back of his neck prickling as he crossed the threshold. The darkness of the partially collapsed warehouse made the early morning twilight seem welcoming.

_"Brings back memories, doesn't it?"_

_"All I remember is how much I hated you!"_

_"What I remember is that you couldn't defeat me. At least…not all alone."_

Robin's masked eyes narrowed, the knuckles going white beneath his gloves. _I CAN defeat you! I **WILL** defeat you!_

He cringed as he stepped on a creaking board, then forced himself to walk carefully. Rusted metal pipes and chunks of wood littered the floor, some places completely caved in and blocked off. All the while he remained painfully alert, every sense thrumming with electricity as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. Slade was here somewhere…he could feel it, like dirt on his skin.

"My, how you've grown. Has it really been two years? It seems like only yesterday I was crushing your pathetic little head into the ground…

"How time flies."

Robin's heart pounded away in his chest, the increase in blood flow making him momentarily dizzy as he honed in on the voice, forcefully ingrained patience keeping him in place. This was just like when Batman made him track that mouse… Yes, that was Slade; just a stupid little mouse. The thought helped ease his unadmitted fear.

"So, what brings you here of all places? Isn't Gotham missing its messenger boy? Surely the Dark Knight didn't give you a vacation."

Robin gritted his teeth to stop himself from replying, and focused instead on where the voice was coming from. Turning his head ever so slightly, he caught sight of his target; the smallest glint of dim light on burnished steel. Hoping to keep the element of surprise, he faced the opposite direction, jerking his head from side to side. 'Playing the fool' can be an extremely useful tool, as long as you're the one controlling it. "You never get tired of hearing yourself talk, do you?"

A low chuckle stood his hairs on end as his pretend search began, in its round about way, to bring him closer to Slade.

"And you still haven't learned to keep your mouth shut. Disappointing, Robin. I thought Batman would have taught you something in a year's time. But then, I suppose I shouldn't blame him. Some people are just too dense to be taught."

Robin disappeared into a shadowed part of the room, ducking behind a stack of crates and forcing his breathing to be slow and quiet. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm a little dense, Slade. One too many blows to the head, you know, and the drugs probably didn't help either."

Slade made no break in the conversation, but from his hiding place, Robin could see him slipping to the right in an effort to bring his victim back into view. "If you're fishing for sympathy, I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place. We all have to take a few hard knocks in life…yours just came early."

"I think I'll skip the philosophy lecture today, thanks. You know perfectly well why I'm here." Robin waited, holding his breath as Slade turned away from him, at last showing him the back of his metal helmet. Silent as a shadow, Robin crept out from behind the wall of crates, subconsciously enjoying the feeling of being hunter instead of prey.

"You got my invitation, then? I was worried that I might have gotten the wrong address. There's just too many ten-story T's these days."

Robin's heart skipped a beat as Slade began to turn, but he slipped out of his field of vision without being seen. The man didn't seem at all perturbed by his situation; on the contrary, he was the picture of patience. How did he do it?

And then, in that moment, Slade lifted his head slightly as though checking what was left of the rafters; adrenaline rushed through him as Robin seized his chance. Quick and silent, he shot toward Slade, whipping out a small, curved knife and pressing it to the vulnerable place between the mask and shoulder armor—Slade's neck. "At least I'm original."

Slade's voice held the merest hint of surprise, but not a trace of fear or anger. "Are you finally ready to learn something, Robin? You hate me; it burns in your very soul, lights a fire in your eyes that no mask could hide. The day that I die will be the happiest day of your life, and yet you hesitate." Slade laughed maliciously, the knife pressing into his jugular until Robin almost drew back in shock of the sudden pressure. "Why don't you just do it? You've already killed me a thousand times in your mind. Once in reality wouldn't make much of a difference."

One thousand three hundred ten times. And counting. "Where is she?"

"Where is who?" asked Slade in mock surprise.

Robin shocked even himself as he pressed the knife harder into Slade's flesh. "Where Is She, Slade!"

The villain didn't even flinch at the added pressure, merely stood in an almost bored position, not a drop of fear in him…more curiosity than anything else. "You're in a foul mood this morning. What's the matter? Not enough sleep?"

Robin put even more force behind the knife, pushing until he was a hair's breadth from drawing blood. His voice shook with the effort to stay calm. "I'm going to ask you one last time. Where Is Raven?"

"Now that is a stupid question, to put it bluntly, Robin. Her whereabouts are insignificant, because, in a very short time, Raven will cease to exist."

Fury and fear boiled over and merged as Robin drew back the knife, slashing Slade's shoulder and kicking him viciously in the small of the back. "WHERE IS RAVEN! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS, OR I SWEAR I'LL—"

Robin grunted in surprise as the fist caught his right cheek, the force of it nearly throwing him to the ground. He recovered just in time to block a second punch, taking the brunt of it on his forearm.

The rage that Slade unleashed was more than Robin had expected, as though a volcano had erupted without warning and buried him under wave after merciless, fiery wave. "You have no idea how much I'd like to kill you right now," droned Slade, as Robin worked to block every punch and every kick, at the same time keeping an eye on the bo-staff.

Robin swung his fist as Slade's face, then changed direction at the last moment and hit him in the stomach, catching the villain off guard with pure speed. "I'm not too happy with you, either!" he growled, fingers throbbing with the force of the blow.

"That's one thing we have in common." Slade's voice practically dripped malice as he slammed the bo-staff into the side of Robin's head.

Attempting to blink away stars, the Boy Wonder ducked a second blow and lashed out simultaneously, sweeping Slade's legs out from under him. Losing all thought of the rules of conduct, Robin sprang into the air and brought his full weight slamming down on Slade's chest. A cross between a groan and a gasp hissed from his grounded opponent. "I'm not like you, in any way, shape, or FORM!"

Slade reached up and clamped a fist around Robin's ankle, jerking the foot out from under him and throwing him head first intoa wall. "Not even you believe that. But I'm not here to argue with you, my boy, I'm here to finish what I started."

Robin stumbled slightly in regaining his footing, blinking as the world spun beneath him. For a moment, he was content just to glare at the person he hated most in the world.

Slade folded his hands behind his back and regarded Robin thoughtfully. After what seemed an eternity, he spoke. "I propose a duel, an ongoing fight to the death between you and I. No outsiders, no distractions. One on one, hand to hand, combat."

Robin grinned, one fist closing around the small sphere in his belt. "Done," he said, then hurled the round device at Slade's head.

Slade seemed unconcerned by the flying projectile. Fixing Robin with his cold gray eye, he droned, "Get some sleep…you're going to need it."

One moment, there was Slade…and quite suddenly, there wasn't Slade. The star-shaped blade buried itself in the wall, quivering slightly with the force of the throw.

The only sound in the empty warehouse was a cry of carnal fury.

* * *

_All shall reveal itself in time…but feel free to guess at what's happening, you usually come close. Good news for those of you that follow Dark Corners; I've got the ninth chapter halfway done, so that one should be coming next. TTFN, tata for now! -Dusty_


	5. Your Ahead is My Behind

_It took me a long time to sit down and put pen to paper, but the second I finally did it took a very short time to write the chapter. What can I say? Sometimes it comes, sometimes it doesn't. It's probably not the best plan to admit uncertainty to potential enemies, but…I'm seriously beginning to think I was crazy for writing this thing. Just know right now that some of you may end up raising your eyebrows or shaking your heads in pity, because all my ideas for this fic so far are a bit…wonky, shall we say? –sigh- Well I've always been one to finish what I started, so…On with the story!_

_AriesFalcon: LOL yeah well…I'm somewhat Slade-dependant. Though Shadow Creature proves I can make my own villain. You didn't join my challenge –slaps wrist- naughty. Nope, haven't seen Kiba yet but he sounds a couple threads short of a jacket. No, I'm not dead just…flailing. –sigh- You quitter. Kakashi-sensei rocks! _

_CDT: -imagines Slade's inflated head popping like a balloon and zooming around the room emitting farting noises- Hmm…nice. Humble you? I meant to make you arrogant. Rats. Right. Hmmm…yes I looked at your homepage, impressive. But there is no way in the free world that you could find me. I doubt even old Bats could. Just ask Mystyre._

_The Goth Witch: Always a pleasure to meet a reader._

_PHAOE: Wow, didn't know I was being influenced by external forces…lol glad you like._

_Timberfox: -bows- Thank you. And update that story of yours!_

_Mystyre: Thanks…I thought I'd try a different way to describe conking out. –shrug- I try lol. Why, yes, yes I am. If you're having trouble remembering the whole Project X thing I suggest you go read chapter 15-16 of Aftereffects…it'll be very important to the story. He is…but no way would he show it. Yes, here's to you and your muscles, Robin!_

_Aero: Hmm…nope, not telling. ;)_

_Psychicflower: Yeah they're American…they're like…um…cylindrical chocolate chews…if that helps. Hmm…I like psychic better. You'll find out eventually. Lol that made me chuckle too. _

_Umbro Draco: Oh, a chess master, pardon me. ;) Sorry, chess boy, but I doubt you'll be predicting this twist. Simply because it is so odd that it can't be predicted… LOL like the little girly squeal, I guess I'll chalk that up to pure excitement. Where's the fun in something if you already know what'll happen, though? Isn't the element of surprise a huge part of the thrill in life? –shrug- That's just me. Chess masters probably see the world differently. LOL you don't have to speak a different language, I get the message. I'm glad you don't think it was a mistake. I've been meaning to read Shadow, but, as you mentioned at the first, school is evil. _

_Jambey: Hmm…close but no cigar. You're right, it was one. Slip of the finger. _

_Mina: Lol yeah, brings back memories doesn't it? First time we met…:D LOL Geico: one call could save you fifteen percent or more on car insurance. YAY MORE TIME! Yeah…I hesitated about putting that in cuz it is more of a joke than anything but…I figured I'd take some creative license. It's not going to be incredibly important (at least…I don't think it will. It might. I'm undecided), but yeah you're on the right track. For clues on that you would have to skim through Broken…later chapters especially. Thank you, I'm really glad you like it so far…and how'd you like that song I sent you? I love Blink-182…but you probably guessed that huh? Lol. _

_Robin and raven 4 ever: Go read Aftereffects and Broken if you want to understand this. I'm glad you like it, though.

* * *

_

Mina jumped back just in time to avoid being run over by a black-caped freight train. It skidded to a halt and whirled on her, panting slightly.

"What? What happened?" she yelled, eyes wide with fear.

"Alert the Titans, send them to these coordinates. NOW!" With that, he spun on his heel and disappeared around the corner.

One blink, then she was tearing towards the living room, slamming her hand down on the alarm trigger. Wails resonated with painful clarity as she waited restlessly for the remaining Titans to arrive, her hands twisting nervously as she tugged on her uniform. Raven had it made for her a month ago, but she still hadn't gotten used to it. It was entirely done in spandex, black pants reaching to her ankles and a three-quarter length crimson shirt with black crosses going down the front. He long, brownish-blonde hair was braided down her back and tied with a red hair-thing. The material bothered her…

"What'd you do that for?" yawned Beast Boy, a distinct sag about his eyes. Starfire looked just as tired. Apparently the late night searching had taken its toll.

"What's the emergency?" asked Cyborg, who looked a lot more alert yet slightly suspicious. He probably thought she had just overreacted to some small alert. That wasn't entirely his fault, but it was still very unhelpful at times.

"I'm not sure, Batman just said that we should—"

"Batman? Batman's here?" interrupted Beast Boy, his tired eyes brightening slightly.

"Yes," Mina said, impatient at being cut off and uneasy with the sense of urgency building inside her. "Well, he was, and he says we need to—"

"What do you mean he was? He isn't now?"

Mina glared at BB, trying to keep her cool. "No, because he says there's an emergency at these coordinates and we need to be there ten minutes ago!"

Starfire smiled, part of her sleepy Tamaranian brain hoping that the Batfriend had news about their lost comrade. "Then we must go!"

As Cyborg and Beast Boy followed the alien to the garage, Mina noticed with a small frown that Robin was not with them… She had a sinking feeling that Boy Wonder _was_ the emergency.

* * *

Robin's eyes were narrowed, each breath ripping it's way through his lungs as he glared into the shadows where Slade had been. There was only one emotion in him. Anger. Burning, fiery _anger_.

"Robin."

He screwed up his eyes in dread of the coming lecture as Batman's voice echoed slightly in the empty space. He could list about twenty things that he'd done wrong…and he was positive that Bruce could see his twenty and raise him another ten. He chose to remain silent, listen to whatever Batman had to say, and leave as soon as possible.

Batman was quite for a moment, standing a few feet behind him. At last, he spoke, his words not surprising in the least. "What did you learn?"

Normally the question would have infuriated him, but the tone of voice that the Dark Knight used allowed it to slip under the radar. Robin thought it through for a moment before answering, "That I'm not as good as I thought I was."

Batman nodded slightly, as though unsurprised by the answer. "You weren't quite ready. What did you lack?"

Again, Robin didn't find the question offensive when, by all rights, it should have been. Again, he thought carefully before answering. "I didn't take the time to plan out my attack. I let anger make my decisions for me."

"Yes…but there was something else, something more important." Batman took the few steps necessary to bring him shoulder to shoulder with Robin, staring at the blade buried in the wall.

Robin looked at him, asking a silent question. He couldn't really think of anything that was more important than what he had already mentioned.

Batman sighed quietly, his expression saying that he knew this would not be well received. "You let Raven distract you."

Robin stiffened, his eyes fixed on the air in front of him as though denying Batman's presence. They had had this discussion before, and he still didn't agree with it.

"Please, Robin, listen to me." Batman's tone was dead serious…and maybe the tiniest part fearful. "I know how much you love Raven. The problem is, Slade knows it too. If you want to save her…you have to be willing to let her go."

Robin could hardly believe his ears. Let her go? _Let her go_? He could nosooner accept that the sun might not rise tomorrow. How could giving up on her help him in rescuing her?

Batman's tone became even more serious when he uttered his next words. "Some plans were stolen from Wayne Enterprises last night after we left. Plans for Project X."

Robin's eyes grew wide at this, and Batman could tell that he was truly listening for the first time. "It's likely that Slade is attempting to reconstruct it for use…on you, Raven, or both. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you're prepared for that."

Robin remained silent, but his mind was working furiously. Project X…brainwashing… His stomach lurched, making him gag slightly as the rest of the picture was supplied for him. "How long?"

Batman shrugged his shoulders as a disclaimer, then offered what information he had. "The plans were outdated; the final layout is in my safe at Wayne Manor, so that should slow him down a little. Even for Slade…I'd say two weeks, a month at most."

Robin nodded slowly; it was longer than he had hoped yet still hopelessly short. "I have to take him down before then."

"_We_," Batman corrected.

Robin raised an eyebrow in question.

"_We_ have to take him down." The Dark Knight raised his voice to drown out Robin's protest. "Why the hell do you think I'm here? For fun? No! To help _you _and keep _you_ from ending up in a full-body cast again." Batman's anger was truly terrifying, and even Robin dropped his gaze to avoid the intense glare. "I'm not going to stop you from fighting; you're capable and competent, but you still need help. Together, we can get rid of Slade and rescue Raven. Alone, you risk defeat…_and_ her life."

The last sentence echoed in Robin's head, the meaning perfectly clear in a flash. As much as he hated it, Bruce had won with pure logic. Listening to his pride and keeping his dignity intact wasn't worth the risk of losing Raven. He was cornered.

"Robin?"

He jumped slightly, but Batman seemed unsurprised as they turned to see Mina, Cyborg, Beast Boy, and Starfire staring uncertainly at them.

A worried frown crept across Mina's shadowed face as she stared intently at him. "What happened?"

Following her gaze, Robin brought a hand to his face and felt the swollen, puffy areas around his lip and eye. He shook his head as he realized just how different they were; such small injuries were nothing to him, yet, to Mina, they were cause for concern. Oh for the days when split lips and black eyes were the least of his worries.

With a glance and a nod for Batman, Robin took a deep breath and steeled his voice.

"Let's go home."

* * *

Slade's hidden face was blank, a perfect mirror of the mask, as he gazed at the sedated demoness. She was paler even than usual, dark eyelashes and purple locks contrasting starkly with her face. It was an interesting face…full of harsh angles and lacking in any softening features. And yet, it had it's own rustic beauty.

Becoming uninterested in her face, his eyes fell upon her hands; small, pale, and long-fingered. On one such finger, there was a ring… His curiosity was aroused as he slipped it off with no sense of guilt, bringing it up to eye level and studying it carefully. This was no cheap imitation; emerald leaves sparkled among onyx roses of the deepest black. He didn't need to see the message inscribed inside to know who it was from. _R -heart- R_. How juvenile.

Dropping it into a belt compartment for further use, Slade turned his back on Raven and strode from the room. He was expecting a call.

The computer screen flickered to life before his eye, an unnaturally pale man appearing within it. His face was frozen in a permanent smirk.

"You're late," remarked Slade, his gray eye narrowing in a gaze that would make most men flinch.

This one didn't, however. He met Slade's stare head on with his eerie ice-blue eyes."Not by my clock, Mr. Slade."

Most would see the prefix as a sign of respect, but the condescending tone behind it wasn't hard to detect. It irritated him slightly, simply because he was not used to dealing with cocky people. After the first few beatings, they became creeping, submissive little minions, or they died…as Robin soon would. This person was far too arrogant for his lowly position… Oh well. He could take care of that later. "Were you successful?"

The pale man nodded, the smirk growing ever so slightly. "Child's play. The security was pitifully unchallenging and, surprisingly enough, the butler wasn't an improvement."

"Don't let yourself get overconfident; Batman is not to be trifled with," Slade droned, hands clasped behind his back.

The smile faltered for the first time, the man's face becoming gaunt and distinctly psychotic. "Don't presume to tell me anything about Batman, _Mr._ Slade. You have the whelp, I'll handle Gotham."

Slade remained silent for a moment, studying the screen with detached interest. At last, he chose his reaction. "As you wish. Feel free to proceed at any time."

The man's smirk was back, looking more like a sneer in its return. "There's no time like the present."

* * *

_Confused? Well, at this point, you should be. If you haven't read the prequels to this, you really should…there's a lot of hints back there to what is happening now. I mean, would you watch the third Star Wars before the first two? –cough- Not that I'm in any way comparing myself to that work of genius…Ok, now that I'm completely off topic… -Dusty_


	6. Alone Again

_Ok, this is my THIRD attempt to type up this chapter; the other times, my computer spazzed and deleted it when I was a page away from being done. –sigh- Anyway, I know this was a long wait which is why this is a long chapter…don't get used to it, however. I can't make any promises about future length. I responded to reviewers the first time around, but I've forgotten what I said and I have 13 pages to type up here so…THANK YOU I LOVE YOU ALL! There. Do you feel the love? Well you should.

* * *

_

Robin was silent on the way back to the tower, despite his teammates feeble attempts to engage him in conversation.

"So…uh…how's it hangin', Robin?" offered Beast Boy hopefully.

Starfire shook her head in pity while Cyborg flinched and Mina rolled her eyes; Batman, however, seemed mildly amused. Robin said nothing.

With a small sigh, Starfire tried in a weak imitation of her usual cheerful voice. "It is most wonderful to have you back, Robin! We have all missed you terribly—" She clamped her mouth shut to stop herself from adding, "especially Raven." She half-wondered if he had missed them too, but didn't dare ask him.

"Yeah man, it's good to have you back," Said Cyborg, looking worriedly at the back of Robin's head as Batman expertly maneuvered the T-car around the twists and bends.

"Ditto!" said Beast Boy, punching the air with one green fist.

Robin said nothing.

Batman gave him a reproachful look, which he didn't see since he was staring fixedly out the window. "Trust me, he's glad to be back. Right, Robin?"

Robin said nothing.

His mentor and his sorta-team gave sighs ranging from exasperation to sadness. It was going to be a long ride.

* * *

The man smiled to himself as he strolled through Wayne Manor as though he owned the place. The butler was incapacitated in the living room, and he seriously doubted that he would be coming around any time soon. He really didn't like resorting to such crude methods, but sometimes a loose brick did what a week's worth of sedatives couldn't. This was just such a time. 

Thanks to a little stakeout Slade's robots had performed a few years ago, he had a fairly good idea of where to find the safe. What better place to hide top security experimental plans than the one place that no one knew existed?

The smile twisted into a smirk as his pale lips parted slightly, a pointed tongue running along them in anticipation. He had to admit, the plan was brilliant. After all, there was nothing he would like better than to see the great Dark Knight of Gotham destroyed by his own technology. In the meantime, he had a few ideas for keeping him…occupied. The old man was the root of more than one plan.

Long, tapered fingers reached out and touched the piano keys nonchalantly, applying just enough pressure to release the trigger. The false wall slid out of the way, revealing a narrow passageway leading to a rickety metal cage. He looked at it doubtfully for a moment, thin black eyebrows raised. He had expected something a little more refined from the world-famous Bruce Wayne, but this would have to due.

Gripping the chain in both of his pale hands, he lowered himself down into the darkness with surprising ease and control. The air grew frigid and damp as he progressed downwards, the squeaks of a stray bat or two echoing out into the empty space all around the cage. Metal shrieked against metal as he forced the elevator to descend slowly, despite the force of gravity pulling against him. The time passed very slowly in the darkness, but he realized that in reality it had only been a few minutes when the cage touched down with an echoing clank.

The man stepped off and surveyed his surroundings skeptically. Honestly, he hadn't expected the "Batcave" to be an actual _cave_; he assumed it was merely a catchy name. The fact that the Batman had been able to run electricity to it was mildly impressive, however. The array of equipment was the best that technology had to offer, no doubt designed by Wayne himself. Medical equipment, a laboratory, and several computer consoles beeped and whirred in the darkness. So where was that pesky safe…

His eyes fell on a wall lined with glass cases, displaying several different versions of the Batsuit, as well as one female costume and another violently colorful one that stood out like a sore thumb among the others. On closer inspection, he saw the circular _R _insignia quite plainly. Honestly, he hadn't known the supposed "boy wonder" for long, but from what he did know, he had no idea why Slade was having any trouble with him. A smirk distorted his face as he thought of the legendary Deathstroke fighting with a child…and _losing_, no less. Just a quick shot of some lethal poison, and the nuisance would be neatly disposed of…besides, you could still watch them convulse in agony; how long, of course, depended on your choice of poison.

He shook his head slightly and sighed, refocusing his mind on the task at hand. The boy was Slade's to do what he wanted with; Batman was the thing he should be worrying about. He wouldn't have it any other way.

The man's sharp eyes picked up the smallest of indentions in the cave wall…then another…and another. Analyzing the series of marks, he smiled and shook his head as the simple image of a bat came to life. Too easy.

He pressed in on each indention, moving in a counter-clockwise motion, then waited expectantly.

Nothing happened.

Undaunted, he repeated the formation, this time moving clockwise.

Still nothing.

Frowning slightly, he repeated both, starting with the bottom half of the bat.

Nothing.

This time he flat out scowled as he started at the bat, analyzing the less obvious (and more tedious) possibilities. He tried several more, but none of them yielded success

While pondering over the situation and staring intensely at the formation, the man noticed something that he had previously overlooked as unimportant. For every indention, except for the very tip of each wing, there was a corresponding indention directly below or above it. Shaking his head, he laughed coldly, allowing himself to marvel at the brilliant simplicity of the device.

Staring at the left of the wing, the man touched the pairs of indentions simultaneously, the middle making him stretch to his full arm span to reach. Holding his breath in anticipation, he brought his finger down on the very last indention.

Nothing happened.

The only sign of his frustration was his long, pale fingers balling themselves into even paler fists. However, just as his anger peaked, it dissipated, and the calm, condescending smile returned. Who said he had to get the safe open himself? This would be an excellent time for a little videoconference.

* * *

When they had at last returned to the tower, Beast Boy and Cyborg practically sprinted from Robin's presence; it was almost like he released a tangible negative force…something like having an enormous pillow shoved in your face by someone a lot bigger than you. 

Starfire and Mina lingered in the control room as Robin strode to the computer, typing away importantly, though both girls got the impression that he wasn't really doing anything at all. Batman ventured a glance in the cupboards and fridge, on a quest for something edible.

"Robin…?"

The Boy Wonder made no response, just tilted his head away slightly. Starfire didn't need to be an empath to see that he was hurting.

Tears began to gather silently in her bright green eyes as she stared at her friend. He had changed so much in a year's time, but it wasn't his physical appearance that struck her the hardest. He had grown hard, as Raven did when she threw up her impenetrable shield. She needed to get past the shield…somehow. Star still believed that Robin was there, underneath his shell of protection, built to last.

Before she could lose her nerve, Starfire stepped up to the franticly typing Robin and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He reached up to swat it away, then froze, a strange expression showing on what could be seen of his face. The tears in her eyes hit him, and hit him hard. This was his friend. He cared about her…he had even loved her, once. He had no right to treat her like this, especially when she was only trying to help him.

Standing up slowly, he gave her a gentle hug, patting her back slightly and attempting to relax his tense body. That part didn't work very well, but he did his best to convey as much caring as possible. "I've missed you too, Star," he whispered, his voice coming out hollow and unaffected. "Thanks." He wished he could make it sound real…

Starfire hugged him back with slightly more enthusiastically, doing her best to stop the tears. Breaking apart so as not to make him uncomfortable, she smiled just as warmly as she would have a year ago. "I am so glad, friend."

An exasperated sigh from the kitchen made them both jump. Batman was foraging through the cupboards, two pieces of bread-shaped charcoal sitting in a small pile of crumbs on the bar. "Don't you people have a thing called peanut butter?" he sighed and shook his head, "It's times like these I wish I had—"

Batman broke off as the computer screen went black, crackled with static, then flickered to reveal a strange pale man with dark hair and eerie, piercing blue eyes. A satisfied smirk adorned thin lips.

Robin was only partway through his, "Who are you and what do you want?" speech when Batman cut him off, dropping the knife and sprinting around the counter.

"Crane!" he growled, eyes narrowed beneath the threatening black of his mask.

"No," the man's smirk became even more condescending as the light of insanity burned in his eyes, "Scarecrow."

* * *

_I seriously considered ending the chapter there, but…I thought that would be mean so…

* * *

_

Robin's eyes widened in understanding, while Mina and Starfire remained confused. The look on Batman's face told them that the situation was far from good.

"Your home is most accommodating, Batman…or, should I say, Mr. Wayne?"

Batman's eye twitched slightly, though for the most part he maintained his composure. He was beginning to wonder how many more villains were going to be shouting his name back at him. "What do you want, Crane?" he growled, his voice low and threatening. Just because someone knew who was behind the mask didn't mean he was no longer Batman. Batman was eternal.

"Oh, it's not what I want that matters." The smile widened as Crane stepped to the right, revealing the rest of the room. "It's what _you _want."

Though Crane had mumbled something about "your home", Batman had never fully registered his meaning. Now there was no room for doubt.

The living room of Wayne Manor served as the background for their conference and, propped against a chair plain sight…was Alfred.

A dark trickle of crimson blood ran down his careworn face, his light gray hair was mussed in a way that he certainly wouldn't have allowed, and his clothes were rumpled and ripped in a few places. Though he was unconscious, his expression was not peaceful, as in sleep, but pained, as though some invisible force was hurting him.

Batman had the arms of the computer chair in a death grip as he started with wide eyes at the man who had been more of a father to him than anyone else, since his own had died. He had been "aware" of the risk he was taking for the ones he loved…but this—this was something that you just couldn't fathom until you experienced it. With more ferocity and viciousness than even he believed possible, Batman growled out a warning. "Let him go."

"Hm, that's interesting. When have you ever known someone to follow your orders just because you gave them?" Crane nodded towards Robin, who was now standing just to the right of Batman, a look of horror on his face. "Not even your own son will do that."

Robin's fists clenched as he opened his mouth to retort, but Batman silenced him with a harsh glance. It's only fair to warn you that I will not hesitate to crush your skull in if you don't release him Right Now." Even through the airwaves, his voice was enough to send waves of fear through the mind and up the spine.

If Crane noticed, he didn't show it. "You can't do a great deal from Jump City, Mr. Wayne, so please forgive me if I don't take your threat too seriously." The former doctor turned away from the screen for a moment, then faced Batman once again holding a small vial between his thumb and forefinger. All of the eyes in the tower followed it with a growing sense of dread. "I'm sure you are somewhat familiar with poisons, Mr. Wayne?"

Batman's eyes widened slightly, a look of fear reflected in the dark pupils that few people ever had the chance to see.

Crane continued, his words slow and precise. "They can be composed of various different substances—it's amazing how much in this world proves fatal." He paused, knowing full well that the words were ringing torturously through Batman's mind. "Death can come as quickly as five seconds later and as slowly as five weeks. This one," he shook the bottle slightly, "falls somewhere in between."

Without further ado, Crane slid the needled point into the thin, membranous covering, drawing out roughly half the liquid within it. He took the few steps necessary and gracefully crouched down beside the defenseless Alfred, syringe in hand.

With a strangled yell, Robin threw himself at the screen—had to stop him—had to save him—

Batman clamped a hand on his arm, jerking him backward so forcefully that he almost cried out in pain. Not only that, but the Dark Knight didn't let go; his fingers bit painfully into Robin's upper arm. Robin had only to look at Bruce's face to understand…He knew that look. It was the expression of someone watching a parent die and knowing they were powerless to save them. He knew it all too well.

The needle entered silently, Crane injecting the fluid directly into Alfred's neck. A quiet gasp escaped Batman as his grip bit down even harder; Robin clenched his jaw to stop himself from yelling. Starfire and Mina looked on in horror, eyes darting from the screen to their friends.

Crane straightened up calmly, turning to meet the gazes of horror and hatred without so much as blinking. "This particular poison will take an estimated forty-eight hours to reach its full…potential. If you plan on saving him, however, I suggest you arrive before then. The internal organs will begin to fail after the first day.

The screen went black.

A choked yell broke the silence as the pressure on Robin's arm became too much to contain. Batman started, as though waking from a nightmare, and let go of his son instantly, a look of shock on his face.

Robin gasped, one hand flying to his arm to rub the feeling back into it and disperse the pain. It had been dangerously close to snapping under the Dark Knight's inhuman grip.

Batman spared only a small glance for him, then, before anyone could say anything, he disappeared through the door in the whirl of a dark cape. Still holding his arm protectively, Robin sprinted after him.

"Batman!"

The Dark Knight zipped down stairs and around bends with such speed that Robin could barely keep him in sight. Before long, he was breathing hard with exertion, his arms and legs becoming heavy.

They had reached the garage now, and the Batmobile revved to life with the touch of a button. Robin at last caught up with his mentor, his uninjured arm stretched out. "Bruce, wait!"

Batman spun on his heel so fast that Robin jumped, staring at the fiery glare with a complicated mix of fear and sympathy.

"Stay here, Robin," growled the Dark Knight.

Robin took a determined step forward. "But Alfre—"

"STAY HERE!" roared Batman, pushing Robin back towards the door and vaulting into his seat in the Batmobile. Without another word, he tore out of the garage, turning with an indignant squeal of rubber and speeding away toward the bridge. Black melded with black.

A silent tear was roughly brushed away as Robin watched the night…Once again, he was forced to choose between the people he loved.

* * *

Slade glanced up at the screen expectantly as the face of Dr. Crane, or "Scarecrow" as he preferred to be called, flickered to life. 

Before he could even ask, Scarecrow delivered. "Batman is on his way to Gotham City as we speak. The boy is yours for the taking."

Slade allowed a slight smile to curve his lips behind the mask. "Excellent."

* * *

_Well, there you have it. My extra-long super-plot-developing chapter six! The stakeout I mentioned that revealed the location of the Batcave was carried out when Slade sent that robot army to attack Wayne Manor in Broken. I think it was chapter 9, if you don't remember. The length is meant to tide you over, because it will probably be another long wait. I love you all! -Dusty_


	7. Choices

_Yes, I'm updating. But of course you knew that…starting Fate and resuming Shadow Creature and Dark Corners has threatened this fic's standing, so I thought I should update. This is not as long as the last chapter, but I told you that was a special treat. From now on we're going to be switching back and forth from Robin to Batman. This is Batman's chapter. Thanks to everybody who reviewed, out of laziness and a shortage of time, I can't respond but I want you to feel loved. ;)

* * *

_

Robin didn't bother going back to the living room.

--_Yes, I'm aware I started with Robin, smarty-pants. Be patient.--_

He would undoubtedly be facing frantic questions and worried gazes; at this point, he just couldn't handle it. If he attempted to talk to someone he would probably end up doing something stupid, like yelling or…

Glad that his mask was in place, Robin walked back down the hallways he had so recently raced through, headed for his bedroom simply because it was least likely of getting visitors, so to speak.

The door slid shut.

A very small part of Robin nagged for action, but it didn't manage to penetrate the numb. Everything was falling apart. First Raven, now Alfred. Bruce was gone, and even though he fought to bury the feeling, betrayal and hurt came seeping into his thoughts. Bruce had promised to help him. He swore that they would tackle this together…yet, in an instant, he was gone.

_"Alfred needs him more than you do… Besides, I thought you wanted him gone."_

He never wanted Bruce gone. He needed him…so much it scared him. He knew what it was like to lose Bruce…and he couldn't survive it. No, he had never wanted him to leave. Not inside.

Robin stopped himself in horror. Alfred was dying, and all he could think about was himself! What reason did he have to keep Batman here? He wasn't injured, he wasn't bleeding…

_"Master Dick, if all fathers were good for was mending bones, the Lord would have just assigned you a doctor."_

Robin sat down on the bed, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. Alfred was right. He always was.

Raven was gone, Alfred was fading, Bruce needed him help…

And all he could do was _sit_.

* * *

Slade was growing impatient. This supposed "partnership" between himself and Scarecrow had brought him hardly any results, yet plenty of annoyance. First the plans were outdated, then the safe couldn't be opened…the fool had ruined everything except distracting Batman, and even that operation was far from the home stretch.

Once again, he was reminded why he didn't have partners.

Sighing quietly, Slade filled his lungs with musty air, rubbing his gloved hands together. Despite his incompetence and arrogance, the fact remained that Scarecrow was necessary. He could not be in Jump City with Robin _and_ Gotham City with Batman, and fighting them together was out of the question. Slade's only real interest was the boy; therefore someone had to keep the Dark Knight occupied. That, at least, Scarecrow could do. He had known Batman since the very beginning, after all.

Slade gazed in at Raven with mild interest. The sorceress was restless, turning fitfully in her drug-induced sleep. The sedatives were becoming less effective as her body adapted to each new dose. Keeping her constantly sedated was costing him far too much—he was already risking dependence and possible brain damage. Yet another reason to be frustrated with his so-called partner.

Calming himself once again, Slade continued down the dimly lit hallway. Most of the rooms branching off from the hall were empty, though some had been adapted as laboratories and what not.

Shoving roughly, he entered the selected door with a bang. They jumped. "I trust you have made considerable progress?" Slade gave the barest lift to his last syllable, though it was more a statement than a question.

The head scientist stepped forward, his knees knocking though his voice was firm. "These formulas are unfamiliar. It's like deciphering an ancient language just to read them, much less do what they're asking. We need more time."

Slade cocked an eyebrow behind the mask. "Is that so?"

His hand shot out, clamping around the man's neck in an iron grip. With a precise twist and a resounding crack, Slade tossed the man aside. Not so much as a flinch.

"Is anyone else having trouble deciphering formulas?"

* * *

Bruce arranged for his jet to be sent over to Jump City Airport, and by eight o'clock the next morning it had arrived. One infinitely long flight later, he was back in Gotham City and on his way to Wayne Manor.

He may have left Jump as Bruce, but he would arrive as Batman. Crane had pushed far past the limit this time, and he didn't care if he had to bury the psychopath in his backyard, "Scarecrow" would pay for what he had done in the most painful way possible.

Deciding it would be best to approach from the back door and catch Crane off guard, Batman guided the Batmobile through the groping fingers of dead trees, and eerie twilight falling under their branches. His thoughts were inevitably tugged back to Robin, and the way they had parted company. As guilt curled around his stomach, Bruce reminded himself that it was the only way. Robin needed to stay as far away from Crane as possible, and he didn't have time to argue the point. Still, the voice in his head insisted that he had just chosen Alfred's life over Richard's.

Batman vaulted out of his seat and surveyed the familiar surroundings, then headed for the elevator—

An eerie rasping sound drifted through the musty air, raising the hairs on the back of his neck as he spun to face the noise.

"The backdoor plan only works if the enemy is at the front door." Crane smiled that tight-lipped smirk from his seat at the computer panel. His fingers, pale and white, were steepled in a business like manner.

It took all of Batman's self-restraint to keep him from tearing the man's heart out with his bare hands. Taking a slow breath to steady his voice, he growled, "Cut the small talk. Where is he?"

"All in good time." Crane rose politely from his chair, motioning for Batman to follow him. Condescension oozed from his every pore. The Dark Knight followed stiffly, tensing even further when Crane stopped before the "blank" cave wall.

Wasting no time on courtesy, Crane got straight to the point. "Open it."

He didn't really think it would work, but Batman chose to give playing dumb a shot. "Open what? It's a wall. I'm sure you have them at Arkhum," he spat venomously.

Crane studied the floor for a moment, the smirk becoming tighter as a humorless chuckle escaped his mouth. "Alfred was the one who cared for you, after your parents died. He's weathered it all with you, hasn't he? Taken risks, put his life on the line, all for you. I can only imagine what his death would do to your already unstable mind." The last phrase was delivered with the dagger like gaze of his ice blue eyes. The light in them was all too familiar to the Dark Knight. Complete insanity.

Silence echoed in the cave as Crane's words sank in. Jaw clenched as a mixture of anger and fear raged beneath the surface, Batman stepped up to the wall, facing the indented bat. Everything inside him screamed that he should break every bone in Crane's body and worry about Alfred later, but his intelligence spoke differently. There was no telling what Crane was capable of at this point. He needed to play along until the opportune moment arrived.

Touching the indentions in a pattern that only made sense to him, Batman then placed his palms flat against the wings of the bat, and pressed his forehead to its head. Speaking just below Crane's hearing, he muttered, "Why do we fall?"

Stone ground against stone as the panel sank into the ground, revealing a small room carved into the rock. The rough shelves held weapons, twisted hunks of metal, and, for the most part, papers. Rolls upon rolls covered the walls and spilled out onto the floor in a mess that would have stumped anyone but himself.

Crane was just as patronizing as ever. "I'm almost disappointed that you're being so cooperative. I suppose there is still time…" he sighed, standing just outside the room. "I'm in need of something specific from your files. Project 3XC, or, as you call it, Project X. I trust you keep the final plans here, where they are secure. In the wrong hands, the device could have a devastating effect on the world."

"Doing the dirty work again, Crane?" growled Batman, anger boiling inside him. "Never saw that one coming."

Crane was losing his patience. "Unless you want to see the effects my poison has on the human body, I suggest you keep your comments to yourself and give me the plans."

Batman's eyes narrowed as his fists clenched tightly, arm muscles bulging under the strain. Instinct had at last beaten down the logical part of his brain.

Moving with inhuman speed, Batman rammed an elbow into Crane's face, spinning to deliver a swift kick to his knees as the man stumbled back. Clamping a hand around his throat, he jerked the small thin man off his feet and slammed him against the wall. Satisfied that he had done enough damage—Crane was limp on the ground—Batman turned his attention toward the elevator. Yes, he was leaving his enemy with the Batcave at his fingertips, but all that mattered right now was Alfred. He had to save him…there was no alternative and nothing more important.

Crane struggled to his feet as the metal cage screeched out of sight. Breathing heavily and wiping the streak of blood from his chin, Scarecrow spoke to the empty room. "Wrong choice, Mr. Wayne."

* * *

_Well, happy New Years Eve, everybody. I'll be going back to school on Tuesday, so the update for this story will probably take quite a while. You can, however, expect an update for Fate before that happens…if you read it, that is. Later days. -Dusty_


	8. Narcolepsy

_Yeah um...it's 5:50 AM and I'm seriously beginning to wonder if I'm completely nuts, but here I am with your new chapter. Not like I could sleep anyway. The name...Third Eye Blind, people. Go educate yourselves. Sorry, but I have no bloody bloomin' energy to answer reviews at this unholy time, so...if you don't feel loved now, well, I don't know what else I could do. -fake sob- On with the story.

* * *

_

Beast Boy gave his thumbs a rest for once in his life, turning off the game console with a frustrated sigh. Somehow he just couldn't focus on blasting the multi-colored aliens. A weird feeling that came very close to guilt kept tugging at the back of his mind.

Robin. He could be the best friend immaginable and the worst enemy you could ever face; the most cheerful and resilient soul and the most suicidal punk; the strongest person alive and the weakest creature to crawl the earth. He could change personalities faster than Star could change shoes and had the reputation for being mad when you thought he'd be happy and happy when you thought he'd be mad. He was weird...he was a pain in the butt...yet somehow, he ended up growing on you. Life certainly would be, and had been, veryboring without the Boy Wonder to shake things up a little.

The twinge of guilt flared up a little at his thought process. "Well, it's true..." thought the changeling, in a somewhat desperate attempt to make himself feel better. He kinda owed Robin after...what happened before. He didn't like to think about it much...

The point was, Robin had a little help coming from the shapeshifter before the scores were even again, and now...now was as good a time as any. Worst case scenario, Rob would start foaming at the mouth and throw a paper weight at his head. That wasn't so bad...right?

Beast Boy sighed, jumping off his bed and weeving his way through the piles of crap on his bedroom floor. The corridor was silent, which made sense since it was now midnight. He was one of the few who burned the midnight oil, so to speak...aside from Robin and--

A lump rose in his throat instantly as tears welled up in his green eyes. They had been looking like crazy for Raven, searching everywhere they could think of, but always turning up empty-handed. He couldn't help feeling guilty for her disappearance...like they were somehow responsible, because they couldn't help her. Maybe this was how Robin was feeling, too. Maybe he just didn't know how to react to it...

After what felt like a really long time, BB stood in front of Robin's door, breathing uncomfortably loud in the dead silence. He hesitated, then knocked.

"Robin?"

The silence remained unbroken.

"It's, uh...it's me, Beast Boy."

Nothing.

Feeling thoroughly creeped out, BB seriously considered running back to his room at top speed, but he resisted the urge.

"I was just...wondering if you wanted to talk for a second."

Still nothing. Robin was either not in there, asleep, or dead. Beast Boy shivered, laughing nervously. Somehow the idea seemed less funny and more creepy in the quiet hallway. The question was, should he leave? Talk to a door all night? Or worse, go in without permission?

He never had to choose. The door clicked and buzzed, making Beast Boy jump a foot in the air, his heart nearly stopping from shock. Robin's door slid open, revealing the Boy Wonder himself.

"What."

The changeling almost flinched from the harsh way Robin spat the word. Dazed, he just stared at his former leader for a good long while. Strange how he didn't look as much angry as...sad? Depressed? Heck, what was the word?

"_What_," he repeated, as though daring Beast Boy to keep staring.

BB promptly stopped, keeping his eyes away from Robin's wet and wrinkled clothes and fixed to his mask...yet he just met with more gawk-worthy details as he took in its precariously crooked position on his nose, the unspikey hair, and the feverish red tinge to his cheeks, like anger or...embarassment. His mouth hung open slightly. When had he _ever _seen Robin like this before? Even when he was too busted up to stand, he still commanded phenomenal cosmic power. This was just plain freaky.

"Do you have anything to say or are you just going to stand there all night?" snapped Robin, voice more drained than angry.

Beast Boy blinked once, then shook his head. "Uh...well I just came to say that I, um..." Heck, it was hard to talk with Robin standing barely two feet away from him...like keeping up a conversation with a wounded badger. Remembering Raven, he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly and did what he did best: spoke without thinking. "I know how you feel."

Beast Boy knew instantly that he had screwed up big time as Robin laughed, the sound sending shivers down his spine and conjuring unpleasant images of rotting corpses and vengeful spirits. He'd better lay off the horror movies...

"You know how I feel," he muttered, drilling holes in Beast Boy's skull with nothing but his glowing eyes. The changeling shivered against his will, his stomach twisting into tight painful knots as Robin continued to glare at him. In that moment, he got the distinct impression that Robin had been to Hell and back with no small amount of damage.

The Boy Wonder took a slow shuddering breath that seemed out of place with his furious attitude, his gaze still fixed on the shapeshifter. "You don't know a damn thing about how I feel," he hissed condemningly. "Not one. Damn. Thing."

The door slid closed, making Beast Boy jump backward to avoid being shut in it. Robin disappeared behind the shifting panel of metal, and BB released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

Honestly...he would have preferred paper weights.

* * *

Raven's eyes burned as though someone had just dumped lemon juice under each eyelid, which felt unbelievably heavy. The film over her eyes made it almost impossible to see anything, and what she did see only caused her more agony as blinding light burned into her retinas. It made her seriously question herself as to why she was trying to see at all.

She soon got her answer.

"It's a beautiful ring, really." The voice echoed strangely in her head, distorted almost past recognition...Almost. "The sort that any young lady would like to recieve, especially from the one she loves."

Her muddled brain, one big haze of pain and exhaustion, struggled to make the connection between the voice and the words it spoke. Ring...beautiful ring...

_Robin_. Robin gave her a beautiful ring. Robin was the one she loved.

"And yet, it has its own unique qualities. Not many girls have the appreciation of darkness that you do, Raven. Not many could see the beauty among so many thorns."

Raven struggled to open her eyes again, determined to keep them open this time. Water clouded them slightly, but she did manage it. Swallowing only to find that all moisture had been sucked from her mouth, Raven croaked out a reply.

"Give it back."

She swore she would never take it off... The ring was her only link to Robin. She couldn't lose it...not now.

"That would be pointless, my dear Raven, because in a very short time this ring will mean absolutely nothing to you. Robin's gift and all it stood for will have the worth of a spec of dust, in your eyes."

Her eyes at last adjusted to the light, only to have Slade block her view. He stood over her, strangely towering and elongated, gray eye staring dully back at her. Raven tried to force her brain to think, yet that only brought on the sledgehammer pounding in her skull. The only true thought that registered was a three word sentence, chanted over and over in her mind, soothing her confusion.

"Robin will come."

Slade laughed, folding his arms across his broad metal chest in an indulgent fashion, as though he was humoring a small child.

"I have no doubt of that. The question is, will _you_ be here to greet him when he arrives?"

Fear broke through at last, thrumming through her entire body. She managed to lift an arm off the bed, but the exhaustion from the small movement was so complete that she could barely even think about trying again. A feeling she recognized as hysteria siezed her, though nothing exploded as a result. She was trapped, helpless.

"Robin...Robin will come," she wheezed, her throat closing over. "Robin will come..."

Slade's mask loomed in front of her, making her eyes close to block out the disturbing image. Something cold pressedagainst each of her temples; her arms failed her though she desperately tried to rip the things off. "Robin will..." Raven's voice came out in a breathless shriek asher rebelliouseyes sprung open and focused on Slade's.

"Now, let's have a look in your mind."

"Robin--"

Robin was not coming.

* * *

_Heh...there it is. If you didn't see that part coming, well...I guess I'm trickier than I thought. Please excuse Robin's mature mouth, he insisted on swearing though I tried to convince him not to. Who knows how long the next chapter will take...Insaneiac the Maniac should have some idea however. ;) Go harass him into updating and I'll be more motivated. Well, it's 6:31 AM and I am a total nutcase. Review, save my soul. -Dusty_


	9. Finality

_HI! DUDE, I'M ALIIIIIVE! BOOOYA:D Yup, I'm updating. Please don't hurt me, I did the best I could…and please don't hurt me once you read this chapter… Oh heck, on second thought, hurt me if you wish. Without further ado, read on to what lies ahead.

* * *

_

Batman tore through the marble halls, breathing heavy; not from exertion, but from fear. According to Crane, Alfred's body had already begun to shut down. Even if he could stop the poison, the old man would never be the same. Damaged, for the rest of his life.

Much to his surprise, Alfred was still in the same position that Crane had shown him from. There was a green tinge to his care-worn skin and tremors shook his body. Bruce's stomach clenched tightly at the sight, guilt and fear coursing through his veins. All his fault.

Stooping low, he scooped up Alfred easily, arms wrapped firmly around him to stifle the shaking. There was only one person who could save him…

Fox.

* * *

Crane stepped up to the computer, licking a drop of blood from his lip absently as he brought up the security cameras with the touch of a button. His trademark smirk crept onto his face as he watched Batman carry Alfred out of the manor, climbing into the Rolls and laying him on the backseat. He was taking him to Wayne Enterprises, no doubt. To develop an antidote, and heroically rescue his adopted father, effectively saving the day. Another miraculous win for Batman.

A cold and short-lived chuckle escaped his slightly parted lips. The Dark Knight was in for a little surprise.

Pale fingers darted across the keys, pulling up window after window with surprising ease. Hacking was an ability that was in his best interest to master, all things considered. Many a shady Arkham experiment had been funded by a little borrowed money from various companies…Wayne Enterprises included. This time was slightly different, as he was hacking into his own establishment.

Shockingly, they had changed the password in the eight years since he was instituted. Good, he would hate to have it too easy… After all, what was the point of life without a challenge or two?

Scarecrow's pointed tongue was caught between his teeth as he brought up the list of Arkham's patients. With every name he read, his lips twitched upward a little more; so incredibly easy, yet so brilliant. With these _things _on the loose, Gotham wouldn't stand a chance, and the Caped Crusader would have no time to interfere with any of his plans. "Now…" he muttered, twisting his way through the database until he located the security settings. It wouldn't be as easy as pushing a "shutdown now" button, but ridiculously close. He sat back in the swivel chair, folding his arms in his lap and sighing contentedly.

"Time to see what the Dark Knight can do."

* * *

Bruce propped Alfred up on the back seat, tucking a spare blanket securely around the butler's shivering body. With a deep frown and a painful knot in his stomach, Bruce wiped the thin stream of reddening fluid from Alfred's chin. He just hoped that Fox could help him.

When he arrived at Wayne Manor, he parked in the underground garage, locking the car twice, just to be sure. With one last look at Alfred and a tug on his suit jacket, Bruce climbed onto the elevator and rocketed upward to Fox's floor.

Bruce Wayne threaded his way through the midday bustle, ignoring everyone that tried to get his attention, avoiding any attempts to stop him. He heard absolutely nothing until he was pushing open the door to Fox's office.

"So, you finally decided to come to work, Mr. Wayne." The elder man's tone was kind, though he pretended to be stern. "Thought you had decided to spend the day cave—"

Fox stopped abruptly as he caught sight of Bruce's face. Instantly serious, he gripped the younger man's shoulder firmly. "What happened?"

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but choked on the words. He was out of breath, small trickles of sweat running down his forehead as panic pulsed inside him. He was trained to handle these conditions without caving, yet that didn't seem to apply now. Now he couldn't control himself. "Fox…I need your help, I…" He swallowed hard, pushing the wet locks back from his face. "I need an antidote. Crane's back."

Fox's mouth opened slightly as he reached for his glasses and slipped them on. "Is he still using the inhalant?"

Bruce shook his head, fighting to control the urge to tear his way back down to the garage. "No, injected poison. Fast acting."

The man's mouth set in a grim line as he ran a rough hand through what hair he had. "Where?"

Bruce jerked his head as though to wake himself to action, then turned on his heel, finally allowing himself to race back the way he had come. Alfred…

* * *

It took a fair amount of time, but now Dr. Jonathon (?) Crane sat triumphantly before the massive computer screen, fingers interlaced, smile in place.

All security—every camera, every lock, every code—was offline; irreparably so. The prisoner's were waling free at this very moment. True, that part was nothing special; it had been done before. What was truly beautiful about Crane's simple action was that, this time, the convicts creeping out into the unsuspecting city were not just petty criminals, they were the handful of people in this world that hated Batman the most. The Dark Knight had defeated them individually, but together? Impossible.

A cold, quiet laugh hit the stone walls and echoed eerily as Scarecrow contemplated the horror he had just releases. Gotham was finished, and, with any luck…

Bruce Wayne was as well.

* * *

_Bruce heard the old man push open the door, but he didn't turn around, choosing instead to watch as Rachel drove away, confusion and pity clouding her usually cheerful face. She had no idea…he could never explain it, and she would never understand even if he could._

_"I thought I might prepare your supper."_

_Bruce brushed the suggestion away as nothing, barely having heard it in the first place. He felt the words, accumulated over the past days, pushing to escape his throat, but at the same time something held them back. Try as he might, he couldn't say anything. _

_A hint of disappointment and sorrow leaked into Alfred's quiet reply. "Very well." He was leaving…_

_"Alfred," Bruce choked, finally finding his voice and turning to face him. Alfred froze, and the words tumbled out. _

_"It was my fault, Alfred. I made them leave the theater. If I hadn't gotten scared…" They tasted bitter on his tongue, but he'd rather they were leaving than buried and hurting somewhere in his chest. Half of him wanted someone, anyone, to tell him they weren't true. _

_Alfred took the few steps necessary to bring him to Bruce's side. He hushed him gently, placing an arm on his shoulder. "It was nothing you did. It was him, and him alone. Do you understand?" he asked gently, tilting Bruce's head up until their eyes were level._

_Struggling against escaping tears, Bruce nodded slowly. He felt better… The belief in the words wasn't completely there, but somehow, knowing that he wasn't alone was enough to ease the lump in his throat. He had someone. Alfred._

"This way!" Bruce yelled over his shoulder as he all but sprinted toward the parked car, Fox hot on his heels. It couldn't be too late…he still had time…

Jerking the door open, his mouth ran without his knowledge. "Alfred, I'm here, I have the—"

The words died painfully in his throat, a rasping gasp wrenching itself from his body as his eyes fell on the pale, still face. Paralyzed, he watched through a fog as Fox slipped alongside him, taking the suddenly frail man's wrist gently, thumb at the base of the palm. A sigh, brought up deep from the soul…then Fox looked at him, almost apologetically…

Bruce Wayne stumbled away from the car, breathing halted and mind numbed in disbelief. Alfred was gone.

* * *

_I know what you're thinking, but this really isn't a cliffhanger. I gave you the answer, and it's not going to change. As for the poor quality of the chapter…I'm sorry. I'm going through a long painful dry spell, so this might be the last you see of me for quite some time. -Dusty _


	10. Fire and Ice

_Uh...yeah it's been an eternity since I put up a chapter for this. I'm sorry, and I've been working on filling out the details so hopefully it'll run more smoothly... Anyway...on with the show. _

_-_

Mina crept as silently as possible down the hallway from her room, formally Terra's. The floor had so many creaking spots that she half-wondered if the Titans had designed it that way, as a security measure. No one was likely to be awake enough to hear a floor creak though...excepting the person she was looking for.

The closed and unforgiving door jarred Mina's courage the second she laid eyes on it, and more than half of her was ready to turn around and march right back to her room. The idea of being in Robin's room this late at night had her stomach in knots, not to mention the fact that he was in no mood to entertain at the moment. What right did she have anyway? It wasn't any of her business what Robin did or didn't do. She wasn't even a real member of the team...

Stop it! This is about Robin, not you, she thought, shaking her head to dislodge the pesky doubts. Before she coudl change her mind again, Mina knocked quietly on Robin's door.

She was beginning to think about knocking again when a muffled voice reached her ears.

"Go away, Beast Boy."

An eyebrow shot up. Apparently she wasn't the first to visit him tonight. "Robin? It's Mina." The whisper sounded a lot less confident than she would have liked.

All five seconds later, the door slid open. When Robin failed to appear, a nervous jolt shot through Mina. He wanted her to come in.

Awkwardly, she stepped inside the dark room, eyes adjusting from the fluorescent hallway lights. Before they had finished, the small "click" of a lamp brought light into the room. The door closed behind her.

Robin sat, back to the wall, eerie white eyes fixed on her. "What do you want?"

The words were harsh, but his voice was not the angry one that came through the door. If anything, he sounded sick.

Mina's tongue was slow and stupid, though her mind was running at a hundred miles per hour. In the end, she countered his questions with a question. "What happened back there, Robin?"

His face hardened in the lamplight, body tensed as though it had been forced to remember some buried pain. "I don't want to talk about it," he droned, a note of finality in his words.

The nervousness and fear she had felt seemed to have left Mina now, replaced by a shade of indignance. She had never felt this way towards Robin before...like slapping some sense into him. It gave her new found courage. "Was it about Raven?"

A glint flashed in the white's of his mask as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. His lips sealed in a tight line.

Ignoring these unmistakable warning signs, Mina pressed on. "Do you have any idea where she is?"

The silence was palpable, as though Mina could have reached out and touched it. Had she done so, she had no doubt that it would have bitten her. Though it was beginning to look more like stupidity than bravery, Mina pushed harder, her voice barely above a whisper. "Have you looked?"

He looked shocked for a split second, and Mina instantly regretted the words, but the look vanished, to be replaced by one of near fury. "Is there something you need?" It was halfywa between a growl and a hiss.

That was generally enough to make most people turn tail and run like the wind, but Mina couldn't find any fear of Robin within herself. He wasn't a criminal, he was someone resisting their path. She had been him, once. She was no more afraid of Robin than she was of herslf. All that was left was an overwhelming need to help him. "I'm not the one that needs you, Robin."

In the blink of an eye Robin was off the floor and in her personal space. Mina had to work hard not to take a surprised step back. "What would you know about it?" he breathed, warm air brushing past her cheek as he glared from behind the mask. "What do you care, anyway? It's not your fight. You have no reason to be here."

Mina blinked, stunned as the words burrowed to her core. Why was she here? Why had she dragged that stranger in out of the cold? Why had she struggled to find him when he'd been taken? Why had she taken the risk of killing someone to spare his life? There was one straight answer. She could not have done anything else.

Taking a shuddering breath and fighting off the burning in her eyes, Mina looked straight into the ivory depths, numbly surprised to find them barely inches from her own. Every exhale mingled her breath with his, and the space between them sparked and writhed with energy until it felt alive. Why was she here? As her hands trembled with the overwhelming ache inside her, the answer was simple, really. She was here for Robin.

No doubt confused by her silence, his mouth opened to growl something else at her, leaning forward threateningly. Her body responded to the movement before her mind could catch up, and before she could come to hersenses, her lips touched his. A numb jolt of disbelief spread through her limbs, followed by an unbearable heat that undoubtedly lit her cheeks on fire. It seemed to take hours before her body let her mind drag it away from the horrendous crime it had just committed, but she prayed it had only been a second or two.

As her eyes opened once again, and she saw the look of shock on his face, she found herself floating in the midst of some kind of horror induced calm. The words rolled off her tongue smoothly, though for all her brain knew, they were someone else's. "I'm here because I know I can help. Raven needs us, she needs you, I can feel it. I won't let you give up while she's still out there. If we work together, I know we can save her, and at the very least, we'll be able to say we did everything in our power." Holding his gaze with more confidence than she felt, Mina gave her speech a powerful conclusion. "Are you with me, or not?"

Embarassment and shame burned inside her as he remained dumbstruck. He nodded mutely, gaze studying her as though she had suddenly sprouted wings and flown around the cieling.

She nodded in acceptance, her manner every ounce the professional teammate. "Get some sleep. We can formulate a plan in the morning."

Robin nodded again, the tiniest of twitches betraying his discomfort at taking orders.

When nothing more was said, Mina turned her back on him and walked calmly to the door. Her straight-backed march continued all the way down the silent corridor.

It was only when Mina reached her room that she broke down sobbing.

-

Crane had only just begun to celebrate his first small victory when the screen flickered to life behind him. "Ah, Mr. Slade," he greeted without turning. "What a pleasant surprise."

"If only I could say the same," came the cold reply.

"Is something troubling you, sir?" A thin-lipped smile lit his face, every ounce of him patronizing.

"Why yes, little scarecrow. Something is indeed troubling me."

The dangerous hiss at last got Crane's attention, and he swiveled to face a silently furious Slade. He chose to ignore the slight, though there was another pound of disrespect in his reply. "Can I be of assistance?"  
Slade's gray eye narrowed. "Are you seriously implying that you have not managed to retrieve my item?"

Crane laid the tips of his fingers together. "Oh, that. I have some unfortunate news." His eerie blue eyes watched Slade's fingers tighten on the arms of his chair. "The item no longer exists. Knowing the reprocussions of Project X falling into the wrong hands, Wayne destroyed the final layout. There is no back-up copy."

Heavy silence.

"That is unfortunate, indeed. Unfortunate for you, of course." His tone was light, and he relaxed in his chair, fingers splayed on the black leather.

Crane raised a thin, black eyebrow. "Is that so? What a shame." He sighed in mock distress. "Perhaps my next information will be some solace to you?"

Slade moved not a muscle, but Crane could tell that he had his attention once again. "An unknown person or persons seems to have permanently disabled security at Arkham Asylum, allowing its contents to spill into the streets of Gotham...and seek revenge on he who put them there."

A satisfied smirk slithered across his face as he half saw, half sensed Slade's change in mood. "The Batman won't be available for a great long while; a fact that, if I'm not mistaken, is of great advantage to you."

Slade's eye narrowed as he leaned forward slightly in the leather armchair. "Indeed. Very well, Mr. Crane. You have served some purpose. Remove Batman completely, and we might just have a partnership."

"I eagerly await the day," assured Crane cheerfully. "Until then, Mr. Slade?"

Slade nodded once, terminating the link...but not before Scarecrow saw the flash of fire in his gray eye.

He chuckled in the silence, leaning back in Bruce Wayne's luxurious amr chair. "You take me for a fool, Slade." He smiled lovingly down at the unrolled blueprints. "But I'm afraid it's you who have been fooled."

-

Slade watched the darkness coldly, one hand tracing a continuous pattern on the desktop. "Pathetic, how the weak never see the demon in the shadows."

Crane had failed miserably, and Slade would be lying if he said he was only slightly urked by this wrench in his plans. A mistake this early on was a very bad omen for the future, and Slade prided himself on a plan perfectly executed from start to finish. Partnership? The idiot was eating right out of his hand. He of all people should know better--but the stupidity of mankind was hardly a shock anymore.

His footsteps echoed down silent corridors, raising small clouds of dust as his shadow flickered across the walls. Now he was faced with the hated tangent road of recalculation. Everything had to be evaluated. Everything had to be adjusted.

He entered the room civilly, resisting the urge to throw open the door and shake it's occupant. Two sets of hell-fire eyes glared back at him from the face of the girl known as Raven. She was bound to a straight-backed chair, surrounded by a customized containment field, and she looked anything but pleased about it.

"Good morning, Ms. Roth. I trust you slept well?"

She responded with an extra layer of hatred.

Slade revelled in it. "Excellent. Now, why don't we start with a few simple questions?" Slade held up the ring at eye level, turning it this way and that to catch the fluorescent lighting. "Does this trinket mean anything to you?"

For a moment, she said nothing, merely glared. Slade's patience began to slip...

But then, she looked at the ring. There was no recognition in her demon's eyes. "No," she growled, voice thick with a strange accent. "Why do you ask me this, human?"

-

_Ok so...that's a chapter. I appologize for any typos or plain lack of quality, since this had to be typed up in a hurry. School is starting tomorrow...also, I'm seriously in trouble for all my late writing course assignments so...hopefully you can find it in your heart to be patient with my lack of updates. It's almost more than I can ask...but... For those of you who don't like Mina, sorry, because she's going to play a relatively large role in this, the final installment. I'm sure I'm going to be yelled at for that kiss, so I'll restate, the feelings are one-sided. The poor girl just experienced that age-old mistake of taking something she can't have, and she knows it. -Dusty_


	11. The Remedy

_Hey guys...sorry this has taken so damn long. Here ya go. Chapter was somewhat inspired by The Remedy by Abandoned Pools._

* * *

Robin watched numbly as the first frail signs of dawn appeared in his window. A long, sleepless night was now over, and he could no longer beat everything out in his head. His time for thought was up. From this moment, he would accept nothing but action. 

Knowing that she would be awake, Robin made his way soundlessly through the tower, monitering every dark corner out of habit; his body was on autopilot as his brain worked furiously. He could find nothing to explain the events of last night, or the burning that had erupted in his chest. All at once, he was painfully aware. In that moment, he knew he had been hiding, and he knew what he had to do to redeem himself. All of this because of an orphan girl he barely knew.

Mina was waiting for him in the kitchen, making hot chocolate with the kettle. He cleared his throat, and she jumped slightly.

"Oh...hi. Good morning." Her eyes darted nervously around the room, a blush lighting her cheeks on fire.

His stomach clenched as the memory that was plaguing her flashed through his own mind. Guilt tugged at him. Shouldn't that be the first topic of the morning? He owed her, at the very least, acknowledgement...

But Robin's renewed drive wouldn't allow for damage control. His only thought was Raven. Pulling up a chair, he tugged a notepad toward him and let loose a fury of scribbles--he found this unrestrained flow of ideas helped i nthe developement of strategy. "First of all, we neeed to know our assetts--including allies." He glanced up for the briefest moment, ready for her input.

The blush was gone now, replaced with a frown of concentration. "I'm not sure if we can count on the other Titans. Cyborg wouldn't know what we were talking about, and Star and Beast Boy..." She abesentmindedly chewed a nail. "It seems like we should be approaching this with stealth, and more variables just make it harder to achieve that."

Robin nodded, surprised that they were on the same wavelength. "It will have to be you and me, that's for sure." He couldn't hold back a better chuckle. "But the problem is, stealth is nearly impossible to achieve when Slade is involved." The pen scratched furiously, his head nearly throbbing from concentration. "We're goiing to have to stay three steps ahead of him if we don't want to play right into his hands. And with Raven's life on the line..." He trailed off as the emotional side of his brain took in what he had just said so carelessly.

"Do you have any idea where he'd be holding her?" Mina's voice was subdued, as though she sensed his change of emotion.

The pen fell inactive as Robin rubbed his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. "The first lair is out of the question...I doubt he'd use the latest, since Batman's in Gotham. It wouldn't be anywhere I already know of--Slade wouldn't want me showing up until I'm called." He looked up, staring blankly at the clock on the wall. "We're just going to have to search--"

Static boke the silence as his and Mina's attention was jerked toward the living room television. The image jittered for a split second, and then the face of Jonathon Crane, Scarecrow, appeared in all its magnified glory.

"If it isn't Batman's little brat. Just the person I was looking for."

Exhaustion dulled the power of Robin's fury considerably, which was a good thing, since he probably would have smashed the screen otherwise. "What do you want, Crane?"

He chuckled, palms pressed together. "An interesting question, but sadly irrelevant. You should be asking yourself the same, or better yet..." He leaned forward, his coold eyes doubling in size. "What do I have that you want?"

The gears were working furiously in Robin's mind, but he remained silent.

Crane sighed in mock exasperation. "Do I honestly have to put all the pieces together for you? No wonder you are incapable of finding your girlfriend, much less rescuing her."

No surprise there. "What do you know about her?"

A smirk lit his face. "Just about everything; from her demon heritage to her favorite kind of tea. The part you'd be interested in would be her present location."Crane held a slip of paper up to the camera lens, and Robin automatically memorized the neatly written address.

His mind was far from doubtless. "How do I know this isn't just another set up?" he growled, fists clenched.

"You don't." The villain reclined in his chair, amusement flickering in his eyes. "I guess you better try another lead, then."

* * *

There was no funeral. Alfred had no living relatives, and very few people outside of that had known him. He was simply buried in the finest coffin on the market, laid to rest on the grounds next to Bruce Wayne's other dead parents. The last piece of his sanity was gone. Without Alfred there to remind him, he found himself without a reason to live.

Bruce sait in one of Wayne Manor's many living rooms, gaze vaguely directed at the unlit fireplace. Twilight had fast turned to darkness, and he hadn't bothered to turn on a light.

There were a thousand things he knew he should be thinking about and doing, but his mind refused to address them. He couldn't think about how he would tell Robin, or what he would do with the boy now. He couldn't think about Slade or Raven. He couldn't even think about getting up to change his clothes. He was a perfect blank, completely numb...it was the only way he would have it.

He drank deeply from the bottle, letting the liquid slide down his throat and eliminate another little piece of his awareness. Even if he had wanted to, the feelings could not be recalled. He floated in blissful ignorance...

A sound met his ears, silent enough at first to be a mere annoyance, but growing in volume until it pulsed in his head. "...Footsteps," came the slow conclusion.

He pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as the floor shifted and spun. Instinct struggled through the fog, and he slipped backwards into the shadows behind the mantle. Sadly, this only worked in the dark.

The room was suddenly flooded with blinding light. It seemed to pierce straight into his head, forcing his watering eyes shut as he groaned in pain.

"My, my, my! Drinking on the job? I'm going to have to report you!"

The shrill, mocking voice was only too familiar. He forced his eyes open enough to see a blurred and doubled figure, face stark white and hair and clothes violently colorful. "Joker..." he choked, heart pounding in his head as he attempted to stand upright.

A harsh, high-pitched cackle split through his head as what little sight he had regained was stolen by the agonizing flash of light, exploding in front of him. He fell to his knees, head cradled in his hands. Completely vulnerable--the one condition he was never supposed to reach.

"You and I, Brucey...We are going to have the time of your life!"

* * *

The address took Robin and Mina downtown. To their surprise, they idn't find an abandoned or run down warehouse. It was a fairly large building, once used for scientific research, but now empty. Instead of the customory "For Sale/Rent" sign, the doors read "NO TRESSPASSING."

"Looks like this is our place," muttered Mina, glancing nervously around at the few cars and pedestrians. "How do we get in?"

Mouth set in a firm line, Robin rounded the corner of the building, climbing the chain link fence and flipping over the top to land on the other side with the grace of a cat.

She eyed the eight foot structure doubtfully; it would be a miracle if she could even clear the top. Knowing he was waiting on her, she began the slow climb, finally reached the top...and there she was stuck, the ground dizzyingly far away.

Before she could say a word, Robin stretched out his arms. "Jump."

Eager to reach solid ground again, she obeyed without thinking. He caught her as though she weighed no more than a duffle bag, and set her carefully on the ground. An inconvenient blush colored her cheeks as his hand brushed her arm. "Don't even go there..." She told herself firmly, then ran to catch up with him.

At the very back of the building, low to the ground, there was a small rectangular window. Robin went to work on it, using various picks and files until it finally opened. Stepping back, he gestured for her to go first.

It was a close fit even for her. Within seconds, she dropped five or so feet to the concrete floor, landing in a crouch. As soon as she was out of the way, Robin landed beside her, and they could inspect their surroundings. The room was dark, but their eyes quickly adjusted to find that they were in storage. Robin coughed as their footsteps stirred up a thick layer of dust.

Careful to muffle his steps, Robin quickly found the door, cracked it open, and peered out. The hallway was only slightly brighter than the storage room, lit by the occasional flickering fluorescent light. Doors stretched out on both sides, each possessing a small glassed window. He and Mina moved cautiously, glancing in each door only to find empty room after empty room.

When they had reached the end of the hallway, Mina stared at him questioningly.

He opened his mouth to instruct her to take the right, when the deafening sound of gunfire split the silence. He watched in slow motion as the bullet hit her i nthe chest, as she crumbled to the ground, as blood soaked the front of her shirt.

Shock coursed through him as he screamed a warning far too late. Before he could so much as drop to his knees, strong arms had him in a bone-breaking grip, dragging him away from the dying girl.

"No! Let me go! DAMMIT!"

"Shut your trap, you crazy bastard!"

Horror reflected in his eyes as the mask was ripped from his face. He knew that voice... The sneering face of Boris was bare inches from his own. "Hey, freak. Welcome back."

His mind was in a tail spin, stomach churning until he nearly gagged. "No...No..." he groaned, blinking as though he could wish it all away. His uniform was gone now, replaced by loose fitting white clothes. Cold metal bars locked into place, restraining every struggle he mustered and cutting deep into his skin. "NO! Raven!"

"She's not coming, Robin," hissed the voice.

As his terror became nothing short of painful, he let out a desperate howl of agony. "NO!"

"Robin!" Someone was shaking his shoulder as the needle drew ever closer...

Her green eyes were wide with fear, a ghostly image superimposed over the hospital walls and the ugly face of Boris. Ten minutes passed between every heart beat as the image became solid, leaving him staring blankly at Mina, alive and well.

"Robin...are you ok?"

* * *

_Yeah, kind of a weird chapter. Some stuff happened that I didn't plan on, its probably a little confusing right now but in the next chapters it should make more sense. That last bit was a reference from Aftereffects...so a refresher on that might be helpful. Sorry this took so long...im going to attempt to keep up with it and just finish the bastard. If anyones still reading, plz review. -Dusty_


	12. Face Off

_well lookie lookie, im updating and it hasnt been a year. -waves flag- well not much else to say except shut up and read._

* * *

Cold sweat trickled down his forehead. He wiped it away with a shaking hand. "I..."

Robin shut his mouth; there was no way he would tell Mina what had just happened. It would only lead to awkward questions, ones that he was completely incapable of answering. "Let's keep moving. You take the right, I'll take the left."

She fixed him with a worried stare for a moment, then reluctantly turned and walked down the hallywa he had indicated, checking every door. Breathing a sigh of relief, Robin pursued his own path.

An eerie silence settled in as the sound of her footsteps faded away. The only sound was his heavy breathing and the crackling of the fluorescent lights. His mind was still entangled in the spontaneous vision he had just experienced, and fear gripped his chest. What had dragged those memories out of his mental closet? What had frightened him moost was the way his conscious had returend to the horrible state it had been in that day. What could have triggered something like that...?

I just have to stay alert, he thought. If I just stay focused...

A faint sound met his ears, whispering down the long and shadowed hallways. Eyes wide, he crept silently in the direction it came, straining to hear...

"Mom..."

The voice was young, a little boy's voice.

"Mom!"

Robin was running now, certain that this boy must be in some kind of trouble...he didn't bother to ask what a child would be doing here in the first place.

"Mom! Where are you!"

His breathing came in sharp bursts, his heart thudding painfully as the walls rang with the pounding of his feet. Rough brick stretched as far as he could see on either side, trapping him, making him lost... And he was lost.

Richard blinked back sudden tears.

"Mom..."

* * *

Slade watched the moniters, his gray eye holdiing not a spark of amusement. He was soaking this in, basking in it, focused purely oon the slow torture of the one person on this Earth who had defied him, and thus, the one person he truly hated. It was not amusing. This was no longer a game. This was simply vengeance. The badly lit image showed Robin tearing down the hallway as thoug hSatan was on his heels, stumbling and running his hands over plaster walls. "Mom..." he whispered, tears evident in his voice. "Mom."

"Your mother can't save you from the fate you chose, Robin." His fingers interlocked smoothly, sliding into place with the finality of a key in the lock. "But I expect you'll be joining her in death."

He stood up, leaving the moniters behind with no smalll amount of reluctance. His purpose was far more important than this little victory party. It was time to release the Hell Spawn.

* * *

The last thing Bruce wanted to do right now was open his eyes. It was bad enough that he had to be conscious. There was no way he was going to subject his miserable head to any amount of light and blurredvisions. Nope, no way in hell.

"Here he is! Bruce Wayne, billionaire has-been, dear old Daddy Warbucks to poor little orphans! Wakey, wakey, Bruce! Your adoring fans are clammering for autographs!"

He forced his eyes open, achieving little more than a slit as the throbbing brought involuntary tears. "Joker," he croaked, the evil taste of stale whiskey in the back of his throat. "How did you..."

"Escape from that accursed pisshole you landed me in?" His eyes bulged, insanity clearly visible in them. In the next instant he was back to his usual (for a psycho) attitude. "That's a question you should be asking you're good pal Scarecrow! Bit too stuffy for me, but I gotta say, he is handy with a computer."

His aching head struggled to understand the high-pitched nerve-wracking voice. "Crane did this?"

"Bingo!" Joker's white face was barely inches away, his breath making Bruce's stomach turn. "And do you know what the best part is Brucey?" He threw back his head and cackled for what felt like torturous hours. Even when he stopped for breath the eerie grin still exclipsed his face. "I'm not the only one! All your old buddies are out on the town and just dying for a get together. Whaddya say, Bats? How 'bout a big family reunion?"

He "patted" Bruce's face condescendingly, a claw-like hand latching on to his chin and forcing him to stare into the eyes of is worst enemy. "Or, we could just make this a private ordeal." Joker whipped the butt of the gun across Bruce's face, leaving a stream of blood in its wake. "After all, Bats..." The fist collided with his face, whipping his head back as his neck let out an ominous crack.

"I am your favorite."

* * *

Richard came to an abrupt halt as the alley ended, revealing a chink of the night sky and dark street beyond. Terror gripped him so tightly he could barely breathe. He didn't recognize any of the roadsigns--nothing looked familiar. The night was alive with threatening whispers just below hearing.

And his mother was gone.

His mother was dead.

"No," Robin choked, tears making his voice thick as night slowly melted away, to be replaced by blank walls of a dim and dusty hallway. His legs gave out, slamming his shoulder against the wall as he slid to the ground. His heart beat so hard and fast that his chest burned, cutting off air. He wrapped his arms tightly around himself, gasping and blinking the remainder of long forgotten tears away. What was happening to him? How had he gotten here? Where was--

"Raven."

The clicking of high heels echoed in his muddled brain. He lifted his head, bringing the figure into blurred and doubled view. A black cloak swayed around her black boots, hunched shoulders causing it to largely conceal the individual under it. Much blinking finally brought her face into view--that is, what could be seen of it under the hood. Four cat-like red eyes.

Tow and two failed to connect as his heart beat quickened, relief pumping through his veins as a choked sigh escaped his lips. "Raven...you're all right, you--"

A red blur streaked into view, colliding with his chest and sending a jolt of white-hot energy through every nerve in his body. He couldn't scream, or at least couldn't hear his screams, as agony increased his heartrate until it was no longer beating, but caught in a slow and painful contraction.

It ended, leaving him flat against the floor, helplessly jerking as the electricity slowly worked its way out of his system. Air came in short, largely spaced gasps. The only coherent thought he could form was, Why is Raven doing this to me?

"Pathetic human weakling. What interest does your underdeveloped mind believe I have in you? My only desire for this planet is to see it destroyed, and all the creatures that inhabit it." The boots came into view dangerously close to his wide eyes as Raven crouched down, taking his chin in a vice-like grip and forcing his head back. The demonic eyes burned with a new light, and in their very core there was a most cruel, indifferent sort of hate. Her violet locks graced porcelain cheeks, bringing back a flood of cherished memories. Something...something was wrong. "Raven...I--"

The hand released him, and the demon thrust her palm in front of his eyes. "Silence!"

He gagged, his throat closed to all sources of oxygen. Fear reflected in his eyes as the mask untied itselff and dropped to the concrete floor.

"I'm beginning to understand what Slade told me about you. You are fast becoming more than a mere annoyance." She ran a long fingernail along his jaw bone as Robin's face turned red, then blue, his chest heaving as his lungs begged for relief.

"Perhaps yours will be the first human head for my trophy wall."

* * *

As Mina wandered down empty hallway after empty hallway, she began to seriously doubt her mission was going to accomplish anything. Robin had unlocked the window at 5:30 PM, and it was now nearly seven o'clock with no word from him and no sign of life. The dim light and endless flickering and crackling of bulbs was really starting to get on her nerves.

"Dammit, Robin, where are you?"

"A great distance away from here, I'd imagine."

Mina spun on her heel, trhusting her foot out in a spinning kick. A gloved hand caught her ankle with ease. Dread filled her stomach as she raised her eyes to see the cold, one-eyed mask.

"Your reflexes have certainly improved since last we met."

"Spare me the backhanded compliments, asshole. What's your agenda today?" She jerked her foot from his grasp, standing tense and ready.

Slade chuckled, the sound raising every hair on her neck. "I'm afraid you can't afford to take that tone with me, girl. Robin might be able to get away with it, but there is nothing to stop me from disposing of you right now." He casually removed the pistol from his belt, examining it with mild interest.

Her blood ran cold as she remembered the way that gun had looked in Robin's shaking hands. No way in hell would she let Slade see that. "Is that supposed to scare me? If I was that expendable, I'd already be six feet under."

He glanced up from his work, the cold hate in his eye freezing her breath in her chest. "Bravo, Mina. So you aren't a braindead teenager. There is one thing I want from you, insignificant as you are."

Before Mina could even blink, Slade had her torso in a tight grip, holding her had back with his fingers laced through her hair. "What little mission has Robin sent you on? It's clear you don't have what it takes to be an actual Titan. He must have some other purpose for keeping you around."

Swallowing hard, Mina concentrated on putting as much disgust and fury as physically possible into her glare. "Bite me."

For a moment, she thought he was going to snap her neck then and there. But with a narrowed eye, he released her, taking a few courteous steps back. "We'll be in touch."

And then he shimmered out of existance.

* * *

_well there ya have it. this story is going to show a bit of a darker side to slade (heh, if its possible...), so that was the purpose of that last bit. just for the record, a lot of my recent writing has been inspired by supernatural and the early years of smallville. and for furubafun24, hehehe minas reaction was somewhat inspired by your last review. heh, you may have noticed that a similar occurence happened in bruces, robins, and minas case...it was intentional and thus we have the title of the chapter. anyway, thats about it. seeya next time. -dusty_


	13. Life for Rent

_Hello again. Slightly disappointing turn out, but the show goes on regardless. This is something of a tribute to Mina...I haven't gotten the chance to develop her character near as much as I want to yet. I'm real tired so no complaining about typos. Anyway...shut up and read._

* * *

Mina was running flat out now, panic making her heart beat in an almost continuous stream. Slade must have him... Something terrible must be happening to him. Guilt clenched around her stomach as she realized with painful clarity that anything that happened to Robin now would be on her head. She had stupidly taken his word when he said he was fine, and taken his orders when her instinct screamed against it. One look at his sweat-drenched face and panic stricken expression told her that he was anything but fine.

Her mind was racing with all the possibilities, or rather, her imagination was inventing what ifs. What could have sent Robin into such a tailspin of hallucinations so quickly? He had stopped mid-sentence, jaw going slack as he took a faltering step back. "No," he had whispered, the sound wrenching her heart and filling her with fear. In the next instant, he was on the ground, eyes half mast and breaths becoming more and more labored. It had taken a full five minutes of shaking him to get any kind of response, and even then, he seemed confused and afraid. How could she have been so stupid? He was in no conditio to be left alone. What if he'd had another...episode? What if they had gotten worse?

The hallways twisted and turned endlessly, and with every corner, her heart leapt with hope and sank with dread as it failed to bring Robin into view. She had to find him...there was no other option.

* * *

Barely a minute had passed, but it felt like an eternity as another blast of energy sucked Robin back into the nightmare world of pain and the horrible, horrible squeezing of his heart. Involuntary tears forced themselves out of his naked eyes as the agony dragged on and on into the little swirls and corners of Hell and destruction... He was sent spinning, spinning backwards into the dusty archives of his mind, the blood-soaked photographs of happier times, those purple eyes watching from every angle, bathing him in love, warmth--it only made it hurt worse as his mind balked against the events of the past hour. She wouldn't, she wouldn't, she wouldn't. They loved eachother. They were meant for eachother. She had his ring. He would spend the rest of his life with her. He would be the father of her child. And on and on forever.

I love you, I love you, I love you. The words repeated over and over in his mind, growing in strength until they howled through every corner and broke from his mute lips. "I love you, Raven," he whispered to the violet eyes as reality faded him out of the labyrinth of misery. "I always will."

The eyes did nothing but stare, stare on and on in shock, in horror, in confusion, in longing. It seemed to sap all of his energy, but he smiled, one-dimensional happiness the only emotion he could manage.

Just as quickly as she had come, Raven was gone. The demon's evil crimson eyes were back, and her face distorted into a cruel smile. To Robin, he might as well have watched her die.

"This human race is the weakest I have ever encountered. You have only tasted the power I command, yet you can not even control your own body. If the rest of your kind are as weak as you, my mission will prove to be a boring one." The eyes watched him as a child studies the insect it has just stepped on. "You are not even worthy enough to suffer at my hands."

His heart had gone from racing to beating slowly and hesitantly. The sound filled his ears, drowning out the demon's voic even as her face faded from view. A threatening sort of exhaustion consumed him as he slipped from consciousness. Part of him wondered if he would ever wake up again...part of him wondered if he even wanted to.

* * *

When her legs ached and her chest burned from running, and discouragement had nearly won out, Mina tore around what felt like the millionth corner, and finally found what she was looking for.

She fell to her knees beside him, hardly noticing the seering pain as she placed two fingers on the side of his neck, eyes desperately searching for wounds.

But there was no blood. Aside from the fast-developing goose egg on the side of his head, she could see no sign of harm. The pulse said otherwise, however. His heart beat slowly, like you would expect from someone in a coma. Her eyebrows knit together, her green eyes filled with concern. She couldn't help but think back to that day on the street...

_He's been through the mill, she thought, eyes fixed on the boy's face. Oddly enough, he was wearing a mask, the kind you might find in a costume store. "Strange..." she mumbled, frozen as she tried to see past it... She had a feeling there was something there, something important..._

She shook him gently, then patted his face. "Robin." Her voice came out in a low, husky as her eyes burned. "Wake up...Come on."

With a sigh, she dragged the loose hair out of her eyes, sitting back on her feet. She hadn't expected him to open his eyes...but any chance of him walking out of here was worth a try. If only she could teleport them home like Raven... A lump rose in her throat.

"Ok...let's do this." Tugging his arm up and over her shoulder, standing with great difficulty. True, she was a little stronger than last time, but he was a lot heavier. A year with Batman had put some muscle on his bones...

_The boy's clothes were damp; a fact that probably wasn't improving his condition. She silently wondered if he had been out in that impressive thunderstorm of a few nights ago. Where had he come from? Where was he going? Did he have a family? Why was he wearing that mask? He was a mystery, one giant jigsaw puzzle that she was eager to solve._

Perspiration dotted her forehead and rolled down the back of her neck as she struggled against his dead weight, her heart in her shoes. She was having one of those 'how did I get here?' moments.

A year ago, she was living on the streets; not exactly comfortable but taking care of herself. Life held little complication, other than finding the next meal and a place to sleep. And then she had dragged that boy in out of the cold, and her life had been whisked into a chaotic roller coaster of near death experiences and running from psychopaths. Now her life revolved around training with superheroes, fighting their enemies, and giving everything she had for a boy who could never be hers. Where did she fit into this picture? She had been living someone else's life ever since she met that nothing-but-trouble boy... And now, she would rather die a horrible death than be away from him. The hopelessness of her situation brought tears to her eyes as she fought to stay upright and retrace her steps through the horribly confusing corriders.

After what felt like hours of struggling under him and pausing to catch her breath, she recognized the door they had come through--the paint had begun torust away, and it had no window.

Her relief only lasted for a fraction of a second as she realized her near impossible task of getting Robin through the window.

Easing him to the ground, her eyes searched the room for inspiration, the caged feeling making air hard to come by. Some old crates were stacked at random in a corner. Vaguely hoping they would hold, she dragged them over to the window until she had something of a platform, tall enough to get him through.

Muscles screaming exhaustion, she dragged Robin up onto it, wincing as his head hit the wooden edge. Half lifting, half pushing, she heaved him inch by inch up, out, and into the waiting night. Cringing once again as a muffled thump reached her ears, Mina pulled herself out on shaking arms.

Collapsing was the only option now. She lay flat on the ground, chest heaving, mouth parched, and completely unable to go any further. A taxi was out of the question for obvious reasons...which left her with only one way to get them both home.

Biting her lip, she dug in her pocket for the communicator Raven had given her. It rang once, twice, three times... She was just starting to panic when Beast Boy's face appeared on the screen.

_"Mina! Where are you? Is Robin with you? We've been looking for you guys every--"_

"Beast Boy," she croaked, attempting to steady her breathing. "I need you to come get us. I'm sending the coordinates."

His face paled...yes, surprisingly it was possible. _"Is everything--?"_

"Please just hurry...Take Cyborg's car." She hung up, forcing herself to part company with the oddly comfortable concrete ground. Remembering the eight foot fence with a small, hysterical laugh, she opted to stay put and let Beast Boy do the work from here.

* * *

The demon was under lock and key once again, a certain pair of handcuffs (and various other restraints) containing her powers. These kind of precautions shouldn't be necessary, since he had programmed her to be loyal to him alone, but Slade was rapidly losing faith in what should or shouldn't be.

Something was obviously faulty in the workings of the machine. His pathetically incompetent team of scientists had clearly failed, and that worthless pawn Scarecrow had not produced the final plan that would have eliminated all of these annoying glitches.

A cold metal fist slammed straight through the plaster wall. His hold on Raven had faltered--no matter how long, such a thing was unacceptable. Without her as both bait and weapon, this death match would be much less to his taste. Raven was Robin's strength; with her on his side, the entire process would become long and messy. No, he would not lose Raven. He'd put a bullet in her skull before letting her slip through his fingers.

It was time to send Dr. Crane a little...encouragement.

* * *

Somewhere in Gotham, the legendary Dark Knight was losing a life-long battle, the Teen Titans has never been so divided, Raven was locked inside the demon her father had always intended her to be, and Robin balanced on the edge of a knife as Mina desperately tried to hold on to him...

Slade was moving in for the kill.

* * *

_yeah...short little point a to b kind of chapter. next one is planned out. nothing else to say, too tired. -dusty_


	14. Echo

_No…I guess I haven't given up on this story. Thanks to all reviewers. If the writing seems more mature…hey maybe it's cuz the author is more mature? –gasp- Whodathunk? On with the story._

* * *

_The crowd roared their approval as he reached the platform, smiling confidently at his mother as she whispered the ritual, "Good luck. Be careful."_

_Whistles broke out as he raised his arms, thoroughly soaking up the praise. There was no high like facing a crowd of hundreds…except, of course, flying._

_Without further delay, he jumped from the platform, trapeze held firmly in one hand as he waved to the audience with the other. The cheers could no longer be heard over the thunder of the wind and a rapid pulse. He let go of the bar, doing a 360 flip before gripping the next. He was untouchable, immortal…_

_And that's when he saw it. The circling spotlights glinted off the metal, making it shine like gold. One cold eye was locked on him, following as the trapeze carried him in a death-defying arch. How…?_

_He realized with a lurch of fear that it was time to switch—past time, in fact. In panic, he flung out an arm to grab the bar. Fingertips brushed it…and then he was jerked backwards at top speed, the violent movement destroying the smooth arch. He twisted helplessly in the air, the speed seeming so much greater now as his one remaining hand began to slip…_

_One thought flashed through his mind as panic thundered through him with much the same effect as adrenaline. No net._

_And then he fell, tumbling head over heels, the air stinging his face and forcing his eyes shut. And yet, he could still see that mask, as he fell eternally…down, down to meet death—_

_He felt solid underneath him and glanced up to meet Bruce's eyes. Shame filled him as he saw the disappointment in the stunning blue._

_"You disobeyed an order."_

_He couldn't help but hand his head, guilt as painful as the wound that burned beneath the bandages._

_"This is not the same as disregarding a parent's wishes. When I give you an order, it is for your own safety, not to mention the safety of others. When you ignore that instruction, any number of horrible things could and most likely will happen to both parties."_

_He swallowed hard, ashamed to feel his eyes begin to burn. "Bruce, I—"_

_"You obviously don't care that you almost lost your own life, but what if some innocent had died because of your actions? Are you prepared to carry that guilt for the rest of your life?" His voice was as close to screaming as it ever got, his eyes holding a terrifying light._

_Richard desperately searched for the words that would be good enough, but there were none. No words could make up for the risk he had taken. No—_

_His eyes grew wide as they fixed on a point just over Bruce's shoulder, guilt quickly turning to fear. There he stood, glaring with a cruel power._

_"Richard, what? What's wrong?"_

_He vaguely heard the eternal beep pick up speed, and then came the squawking of the alarm. Slade stepped calmly around Bruce, eye narrowed in unmistakable amusement. His heart thundered in his ears as Slade drew nearer, pressing a cold gloved hand into the left side of his chest. With a single heartbeat, the hand seemed to pass through, constricting and utterly destroying his heart in one blinding flash. His eyes were wide, his jaw going slack. Slade was still there, and he was still breathing though there was no heart left to beat._

_"You can't escape me, Robin."_

_The squawking grew louder—there was some kind of trouble in the city…_

_"Not even in death."_

His eyes jerked open, that final word echoing in his mind as he dragged in a lungful of cold air, hands desperately clutching his chest. His heart throbbed against his palms, pronouncing the nightmare just that. A nightmare.

"Robin! Thank God…"

Mina practically leapt from the chair, rushing to his bedside. "Are you ok? How are you feeling?"

His pulse had started to calm, to be replaced by a splitting headache. His fingers felt the sizable goose egg on his forehead, and a groan escaped him. "What happened? How long have I been out?" He was really getting sick of this whole routine…he might as well become an alcoholic, at least then he'd have some fun while forgetting half his life.

"Uh…well I found you at about eight last night, and now it's…" She checked her watch, eyes widening. "Eight again."

"Great…" mumbled Robin, pulling himself into a sitting position and then beginning to scoot off the bed. This felt like the worst hangover he had ever had…or maybe someone had just been beating him with a baseball bat. His legs shook, but he managed to stay upright, squinting against the fluorescent lighting. And then his mouth started to water.

Mina stood at his shoulder, no doubt trying to give him a hand. He shoved her weakly, mumbling, "Move." Thankfully he was in his own room, so in a matter of seconds he was slamming the bathroom door and dropping to his knees at the toilet. There really shouldn't be anything to throw up…yet every wretch dragged up more, the taste of copper thick on his tongue.

When it finally stopped, Robin was content just to breathe deeply, head rested on the rim. He was unsurprised to see the dark crimson liquid—the manifestation of the ulcer he'd had for two or three years now.

His stomach turned, bringing a fit of dry heaving. "Son of a bitch," he choked, stealing a breath wherever he could. What the hell happened to him? He hadn't thrown up this much since he'd mixed whiskey with tequila.

Some minutes later, he stood shakily, rinsing his mouth at the sink and dunking his head in the ice cold water. A glance upward had him cursing again. No wonder Mina had been so panicked.

Dark purple bags made him look as though he had two black eyes, while the goose egg had a bloody gash through its center. A sickly shade of yellow stained the corners of his mouth. In other words, he looked like hell.

Half-heartedly running a hand through his wet hair and tying his mask in place, he hobbled out the door, once again facing Mina.

"How'd it go?" she asked, a mixture of sympathy and nausea plain on her face.

Ignoring the question, Robin lowered himself onto the bed. "Ok…remind me again what the hell happened?"

* * *

Bruce wasn't sure how long he had been locked up in here…partly because he kept blacking out from time to time. What he did know was that this whole medieval string-them-up-by-their-arms thing was a lot more painful that it looked. His hangover was now in full swing, but that took backseat to the broken, bloody nose he was now sporting. Overall he was damn sick of this whole set up.

The door opened, and Bruce prepared himself for another slap fest coupled with a painful monologue.

The conversation started with a much different tone that the usual one of joyful mockery. "It's a damn shame, Bruce."

This sparked interest—something he hadn't felt since…Alfred. "What?" he grunted, head lifted a little higher now.

The Joker circled him, his frozen face seeming much less amused, and element of cruelty in his eyes. "That boy…you say he's been through hell, but it's nothing compared to what's in store for him now. From what I hear of this Slade guy…the brat will be begging for death long before he's done."

He brought his hooked white nose barely an inch from Bruce's own, eyes glaring unblinkingly. "It's a damn shame there's nothing you can do to ease his passing."

The solemnity ended with a violent fit of cackles, echoing in Bruce Wayne's head, along with the hateful words they followed. Without him, Richard had no one. He could hardly live up to the man's legacy, but nevertheless, he served the same purpose for Richard and Alfred did…_had_…for him. How could he so willingly deprive him of that support, that rock to cling to in times of uncertainty?

It was when he remembered that young boy, looking up to him for strength just as he had looked to his own father, that the fog was lifted, and Batman was released once again. It was time to fight back, to reclaim himself and restore his city to the peace it deserved. It was time to wake up.

* * *

True, most would consider it somewhat ridiculous, a villain setting up his hair in an old apartment complex. But, in all fairness, Crane had been pressed for time—he couldn't exactly borrow the Batcave forever—at least, not until Batman was dead. Thus, he was perfectly content in his temporary abode, watching the lovely events he had set into motion unfold.

Needless to say, Gotham was not fairing well at all in this game.

Crane fished a few stray bottles out of the pockets of his trench coat, adding them to the growing collection in the dusty kitchen cabinets. He had everything he needed to continue work on his newest poison. This had been a tricky one—it had to be strong enough to affect one of incredible will and inhuman abilities. But—tentatively—it was nearing perfection.

Smiling down at the vial of clear liquid, Crane let out a contented sigh—

Which was cut off by a not-so-distant explosion.

"Fuck," he muttered, eyes bulging as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Digging through the stacks of papers scribbled with formulas, he clutched the most valuable in the bunch. Yet another explosion—much closer this time—roared in his ears as he rolled the small stack into a tight scroll, then slipped it into a titanium case. Shoving a fallen cabinet aside, he uncovered the small hole knocked in the wall. He shoved the case as deep into the dirt and grime as possible—that would have to be enough.

He had only just replaced the cabinet and spun on his heel when the door was blasted clean off its hinges. To his complete lack of surprise, the red, mechanical eyes of one of Slade's robots glared at him from the gloomy hallway. His hand clenched convulsively around the tiny all-important vial, buried deep in his pocket. That bastard would get what he deserved.

Continued explosions and crashes came from all sides—no doubt his minions were searching the entire complex. This one had a special mission, however.

And sure enough, it stepped closer and removed its face plate to reveal a small screen. Slade's gray eye glinted from near darkness.

"I'm only going to ask you this once, my friend. I suggest you give me what I want if you have any interest in preserving your life."

Crane's heart rate quickened, though he would rather have his tongue ripped from his mouth than show it. He did not even allow himself to blink. "I'll do my best to be of service," he said, voice oozing with mock courtesy.

"Where are the plans for Project X?" Slade's eye was unforgiving.

"I was certain we had this conversation already." A bead of sweat trickled down his temple to roll unseen along his cheek.

The eye narrowed, ultimate disgust and fury expressed in that ridiculously small slit. "I'm afraid that was the wrong answer."

The screen went black, save for a small digital countdown. 3…2…

Crane's striking blue eyes opened to their full extent as he pitched himself backward—

1.

A deafening roar rocked the room as fire exploded before his eyes.

* * *

_Ok so…moving right along. I don't plan to stop until this is finished, so…should be seeing frequent updates. Now that I'm graduated and all, it's not like I have much better things to do. -Dusty_


	15. Think Twice

_Here I am with a quick update. Thanks to everyone who reviewed…and without further ado, on with the story._

* * *

He was moving purely on instinct. His body protested at every step, aching as though he had only just kicked a week-long flu bug—but he kept moving, because his gut told him it was the thing to do.

The sun had long since stained the horizon, and now the sky was a deep midnight blue, moon and stars obscured by thunderclouds. The storm was brewing…and by the looks of it, there would be a real downpour. He allowed himself the briefest moment to close his eyes and inhale the sweet scent. Under any other circumstances, a cleansing rain would be just what he needed, but now, it just felt ominous.

By the time the first drops had fallen, Robin was far from the city, its lights glinting stubbornly against the threatening clouds. Trees thickened, their branches slowing the rain for the moment. Wind rustled the leaves, mimicking the sound of footsteps. His mind only half believed it was just the wind.

His black jumpsuit (the one he had used for training with Batman) was becoming increasingly wet, and his hair was plastered to his head by the time he stopped, lifting his eyes to the cliff. He had taken a nose dive from that very spot two years ago, on a night much like this one. It was here that Slade first appeared. His feet had carried him back to an old nightmare.

"Where are you, coward?" he growled, bo staff held loosely in his gloved hand. "Let's fight face to face this time—no disappearing acts."

His eyes scanned the dark trees, the torrent distorting his vision. Sudden anger flared in his chest, he sucked in the cold, wet air. "Slade!"

For a moment, there was nothing but the rain—and then…

"No need to shout, Robin. You know I'm never far."

He spun on his heel—then fought to contain his shock as he found himself face to face with the demon he had summoned. The usual feeling of panic and nausea threatened to overtake him, but he took a deep, furtive breath. Not today.

Slade circled him, eye surveying critically. "I must say, you've changed since last we met here. There is barely any resemblance, in fact."

Robin's chest heaved as he fought to control the adrenaline raging through him. He wouldn't be the first to lose control…it was what Slade expected.

A cold chuckle reached his ears as Slade stopped directly behind him. "The problem is, my dear Robin, appearances only count for so much. Underneath, you are the same ignorant little boy you were then."

Screw that.

Robin spun around so fast rain whipped off him as he thrust his hand forward in an open palm strike. Slade met it in a kind of violent high five, in the same instant, yanking off the sopping wet mask and glaring into wide eyes. He laughed, the sound chilling Robin much more than the rain. "There it is, my boy. Fear. Animalistic rage. Impulsiveness. But above all…I see weakness. I see Raven—she looks out through your eyes, boy." His tone was deeply condescending. "She was your undoingthen, and she will be your undoing now."

Slade made the first move, no doubt expecting Robin to be caught off guard…but he jumped the ground sweep with ease, returning slade with a spinning kick. The foot was caught—he struck the wrist with lightning speed before his footing could be yanked out from under him—only to dodge the massive fist flying at his unmasked face. Rain dripped constantly into his deep blue eyes, blurring his vision. He clearly did not have the upper hand in this fight.

It seemed to Robin that they fought like that for an eternity, no one landing a blow, anticipating each other move for move. Sweat drenched him as much as rain, and his heart thundered in his ears.

At last, he landed a blow. A fairly critical one.

His fist connected with Slade's mask with such force that it cracked, along with his knuckles by the feel of them. Slade's eye narrowed, and with a throaty growl, he attacked in renewed strength. Robin found himself struggling just to block the blows, much less give any of his own. The onslaught was pushing him steadily backwards, mud sucking at his boots and threatening to trip him. Sweat mixed with rain on his brow as Slade's eye relentlessly drilled into his own naked ones. It was as though the man could read his exhaustion there.

With an ominous thud, his back hit the trunk of a tree, and before he could rectify the situation, Slade's bo staff was out and pressed lengthwise across his chest. He struggled, hands gripping the staff in a vain attempt to push it away.

"You're looking tired, Robin," Slade observed mockingly. "I take it that little jaunt through my new home left you the worse for wear?"

His eyes were squeezed shut with effort, arms shaking as he pushed against the metal with all his strength. Slade increased the pressure.

"I have to admit, I haven't worked out how you found me…but it was without doubt a pleasant surprise. I trust you enjoyed your walk down memory lane?"

Much like a hazy dream suddenly made clear, the memories of that night were coming back in blinding flashes.

_"Hey, freak. Welcome back."_

_"Mom! Where are you?"_

Robin's eyes widened, locked on Slade's in shock and growing fear. The rain made a kind of shimmering halo as it hit the metal mask with a gentle ping. "How…"

Slade chuckled. "I've been in your mind, boy. Controlled your every thought. Explored every doubt, every weakness. I know everything about you, Richard Grayson. As long as your pathetic life lasts, I will have that deligthful access. No even Batman could free you from that. You might as well get used to it."

Without warning, the bo staff slipped from his chest to his neck. He gagged helplessly, hands now gripping the staff in desperation as his feet left the ground. "But I'm sure that took a backseat to your reunion with Raven. Tell me, did you find her love unchanged, as you so stubbornly informed me it would be?"

Robin's chest heaved, mind racing as the single event he had subconsciously blocked was jerked to the front of his mind.

_Four cat-like red eyes…_

_The agony dragged on and on into the little swirls and corners of Hell and destruction…_

_"I love you, Raven. I always will."_

_"You are not even worthy enough to suffer at my hands."_

"Fool," hissed Slade, mask mere inches from Robin's face. "Love is the weakest of all emotions. Women are fickle, even when they aren't dirty hell spawn. You'd think you would have learned that from Bruce's shining example."

Beyond pain, beyond the need for air, beyond the fear that pulsed in his veins, Robin felt a blazing switch explode in his brain, renewing his sapped energy, strengthening every muscle. A thousand sweet nothings flashed through his mind—a sweet touch, a gentle kiss, the innocence of her eyes… No one would utter a single word against her without feeling the steel of his boot in their skull.

Slade held his silence, grinning beneath the mask as Robin let out a choking rasp. The smile faded ever so slightly as the rasp became a breathless laugh.

Robin jerked his leg upward with all his newfound strength.

It was Slade's turn to choke as he dropped the staff, stumbling backwards and falling to his knees. That…was certainly a new trick.

Robin, too, had collapsed, rainwater streaming off his ducked head as he gasped, choked, and coughed, lungs burning. He massaged his throat gently, spat once or twice, then forced himself to his feet with every intention of fully unloading his anger on the villain behind him…but Slade was not there.

His breath caught in his chest, eyes thrown wide as his heart paused, then began to race. There was no way Slade would end it on that note…he was somewhere in the shadows, waiting for his moment… he spun in place, eyes desperately searching for the glint of metal through sheets of rain and darkness.

Hands grabbed him below the shoulders, jerking him off his feet, swinging him up—and quite suddenly he was flying through the air. Heart in his throat, he reached out on blind instinct…and his hands found the branch.

Pulling himself up, his eyes met once again with the momentarily absent villain. "I thought we ought to make this more challenging," he said, smirk hidden yet firmly in pace.

With that, Slade attacked, jumping easily onto Robin's branch. He threw himself backward, blocking punches as Slade forced him higher into the trees. It was in this frantic scrambling that he felt intense gratitude for the grips on his boots that prevented a fatal fall.

Lightning blinded him momentarily as it seemed to light up the whole world…and a moment was all Slade needed.

The bo staff connected roughly with his head, making sars erupt in his eyes as he hit their current branch hard. When his vision cleared, he saw his worst enemy towering over him, bo staff held loosely in his hand. "Tell me, Robin, why do you keep fighting? You know from cold, hard experience that you can't win. Why make it harder on yourself? There's no need to die in such ridiculous failure."

Rage made the cold rain feel boiling hot as Robin's body tensed like a coiled spring. It took bare seconds, but he had worked three years through his mind before ever touching his bo staff. True, it probably wouldn't work…but there was that small chance.

The staff extended, razor sharp tip seeming to cut the rain that fell on it. With a feral roar, Robin buried the staff deep inside his enemy's flesh and stright through his heart. Blood gushed from the wound, spraying the murderer and staining the tree that supported him. Slade's eye widened until the gray iris was entirely surrounded by white. A ghastly gurgle left his blood-stained lips… And then he fell.

Robin had only just breathed a sigh of relief when the hand latched onto his ankle, jerking ohim off his branch and into a free fall.

Lightning flashed, and Robin watched in horror as Slade's free hand pulled the bo staff from his body. It sliced through the air—white hot pain seared in his arm—a kick in the chest sent him racing toward the ground—a dull thud, stars, momentary darkness—

Robin lay gasping in the mud, trying vainly to blink the stars from his eyes, knowing he should find a way to stand…

"Good, Robin." The murder weapon landed dully in the mud next to him. "I always knew you had it in you."

Thunder roared, lightning cracked the sky, and then nothing but the rain. Slade was gone.

Robin dragged himself to a sitting position, back leaning against a trunk as he surveyed the mix of mud and blood that was his left arm. Ripping off the shredded remains of his sleeve, he tied the material around the wound in hopes of slowing the blood flow. Dragging a hand across his face, he thought briefly of the mask bure\ied in the mud somewhere… Then the "Boy" Wonder got his feet under him and started the long walk back through the trees, thunder growling unceasingly overhead. He figured the dregs of adrenaline would get him there if he hurried.

Robin couldn't have told you how he got there, but in what seemed to him mere seconds later, he was stumbling up the rocky side of the island. His fiingers ran on autopilot as he typed in the entry code, more or less falling into the dark reception hall. He had the presence of mind to dig out his communicator and page Mina…and then exhaustion took hold, and his head fell gratefully back agaisnt the wall.

* * *

_Another chapter ends…next one should be up soon. -dusty_


	16. Slow Motion

_Well here we are at the beginning of another chapter. We're racing toward the finish here, and this is the very last "contemplative" chapter, if you will. From here on out it gets mean. You have been warned. Anyway…thank you to all reviewers, I was intensely flattered by some of the feedback I got. Mystyre, I've always seen Robin as having experimented with alcohol at a young age…considering who his guardian is. As for the ulcer, its not too far of a stretch since he is constantly putting his body under immense stress. That said…on with the chapter._

* * *

Mina's eyes fluttered open, her mind slowly and reluctantly dragging itself from the sort of dreams that come in the earliest hours. Half of her wanted to simply burrow deeper into her blankets and ignore the muffled beeping, but the part of her brain that was slowly gaining consciousness would not allow it. She had only to ask herself why, and then any thoughts of sleep had fled her.

Sitting up so fast her head spun, Mina dug frantically through the covers, her fist finally closing on the communicator. Her suspicions were confirmed as the small readout blazed before her eyes…Robin was paging her. With the push of a button she tracked his location, praying it was somewhere close… Her eyes widened in surprise as the small dot landed quickly in the entrance hall. Both relieved and anxious, she threw back the blankets and set her bare feet on the floor, t-shirt flapping around her slender frame.

Fearing to turn on the light and reveal herself to any possible attacker, Mina tiptoed down the stairs, hardly daring to breath. After several agonizing minutes of silence, she could no longer stand still, attacker or no. At the foot of the stairs, she touched her communicator again, and a tiny pin-prick of light illuminated only what was a few feet in front of her. At the very edge of its speer was a dark, unmoving shape.

Trying to ignore the way her heart had jumped into her throat, Mina hurried forward and knelt by his side. A sheen of crimson glistened in the dim light—her stomach turned violently. He was literally covered in blood. Panic did its best to cloud her mind as she ran a hand over his jumpsuit, searching for rips that might indicate wounds. Her frantic search turned up only the cut beneath a make-shift tourniquet, a few minor scrapes, bruises around his neck...

Mina sat back on her heels, her heart seeming to slow unnaturally as wide green eyes took in once again the blood bath that was the one she loved, horror reflected in them for the first time. It wasn't all his.

* * *

"Star… This isn't your fault."

The alien's green eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, but she forced a smile anyway. "Of course, friend. I know that to be true…" Her voice held none of its usual optimism; the way it shook said quite plainly she was only just avoiding a sob.

"Then…what's wrong?" The changeling fixed her with worried eyes, but his gaze was not met. Starfire had barely spoken two words to him (or anyone) since that awful night with Robin… A spark of fury was kindled was again in his chest as he thought of their former leader. He could have said something to her, could have at least told her she had been missed…his complete disregard was unexcusably cruel, even heartless. Yet, at the same time, he couldn't seem to work up enough anger to blame him. What Robin and Raven had was something he would never understand—maybe no one would. To lose that kind of relationship… he could imagine what that would do to a person. After all, he was no stranger to loss.

Ignoring the hollow ache this thought brought on, Beast Boy sat beside her at the kitchen table, watching as she poked her perfectly normal sandwich half-heartedly. He imagined the bread would soon be soggy with tears, anyway. "The same thing that has been wrong for years, I suppose. My family…our family, is not whole. None of us are the same, none of us can say we possess that joy that came so easy before… And now friend Raven is gone. Who will be next to disappear? In a few years time, will there be anyone left? Will I be…" Her voice was shaking too much to continue, and she fell silent, eyes averted though he could still see the tears running down her cheeks.

The ache intensified as Starfire echoed the fears he'd kept so tightly under wraps. Seeing the utter hopelessness of the person he had once thought to be unbreakable wounded him deeper than even he could comprehend. It hurt too much, those tears… He would do anything just to stem the flow, anything to make her smile again, aything to make things right.

He hugged her gently, the irrational fear that she might break softening his touch. The sobs came now, tears soaking into his shirt as she buried her face in his chest, seeming glad for a place to hide. The pain intesified, and all he could do was hold her, rubbing her back rhythmically, whispering reassurances that even he could not believe, hoping they could stop the tears somehow.

"We'll find her, Star. I swear to you, we will find her, we'll put our family back together. I promise…" If it's the last thing I do, he added silently.

"You'll never be alone."

* * *

"If you're waiting for me to appologize, it's not going to happen."

Mina kept her eyes on her hands, suppressing the tears that seemed so out of place here. Robin was fine… So why did she feel like she was mourning?

"I don't regret it…I only wish it would have worked."

She didn't dare look, but she could feel the fierce light in his unmasked eyes, burning alongside that dark stain, still marring his face. She had not had the heart…or the stomach, to clean him up.

"Say something!"

She jumped at the sound, automatically lifting her eyes, locking onto his. She couldn't help herself. A tear escaped. "What…what do you want me to say?" she mumbled; now that her gaze was caught, she could not look away.

"Anything! " A hint of desperation broke through the cold fury in his eyes. "Tell me I'm a monster, tell me you hate me, tell me I'm just like him…I don't care what you say, just stop LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!"

She flinched, though her eyes were still imprisoned. "I… Robin…" Her heart pounded in her chest, her body going cold with what she recognized as fear. Some shocked part of her brain realized that she was afraid of him…a thousand times more afraid than she had been that day he'd held the gun. She was afraid of that unknown element that shone in his eyes…that great and terrifying part that was not Robin at all.

His eyes widened, and on some level she knew he had seen her thoughts, as though they were written plainly on her face. He stood slowly, gaze still holding her, shock making his movements stiff. "I don't regret it." The words came out just above a whisper, the barest tremor detectable there. "I…I'm not sorry." Backing up all the way, he reached the door, fumbling for the handle…and then he was gone.

She tucked her arms tightly around herself, the bandages that hoped to somehow hold her together. Fear deserted, and mourning took hold.

* * *

"Shit…"

The curse came out soft and weak as he stumbled like a drunk down the hallway. Panic both numbed and enhanced his senses; his heart hammered in his chest, the sound pounding in his ears as black did its best to fade over the world around him. His fingers were slow and stupid on the keypad—numbers mixed themselves up as they passed from his brain to his hand.

"SHIT!"

He kicked it, but the blow glanced off easily, tipping his world at a hazardous angle. And he was running, stumbling, falling—anything to keep moving as the air refused to be forced into his lungs. Down the stairs—the thought of the elevator brought another wave of panic—one floor, two, three, four… Into the entrance hall, past the deep red stain where he had collapsed the night before… And out.

Cold air slapped him in the face, and he gulped it eagerly, drowning in it. Rocks bit into outstretched hands, but he kept moving, crawling out—his eyes were too inhibited by the black, but his hands felt the rush of water…and there he stopped.

Blinking desperately, making a feeble effort at calming his breathes, he managed to clear his vision just enough to see the water, watch that tiny swirl of red before it was dragged out to sea and lost. Blood… he was covered in it, he could smell it, thick and sickening in his nose, his lungs, his throat…

He wretched helplessly, then began scrubbing, wanting nothing more than to be clean, to be free of it…if it stayed there for one second longer he knew he would completely and utterly lose his mind… He scrubbed, reaching desperately for the waves when they retreated, crawling further into the oncoming sea, scrubbing and choking and sobbing without tears. It had to come off…It had to come off now.

And then he was standing, shoes gripping the slippery rock precariously, with the water up to his neck, and his hands still desperately scrubbing every inch of him… It had to be gone, there was no way it could still be there…but there was the smell, and there was the horrible crawling in his skin.

Murderer.

The scream was one of pure terror, agony…the type of sound you'd expect from a wild animal caught in a trap. It took a ridiculously long amount of time for him to realize the sound issued from his own mouth.

And then it was silenced, choked off by the rush of salt water.

* * *

_Hmm…ridiculously short, I know. But this is something of a bridge…the last before everything goes to hell. We're coming to the end now… Anyway, hope you…eh…enjoyed it? Is enjoyed the right word? Ah fuggit. Next chap should be up soon. -Dusty_


	17. Onslaught

_Happy New Year's everybody. Sorry this has taken so long, but I guess the point is, it's up now. :) And the rest should follow quite soon. __Anyway, on with the story.__ If you don't know what's going on anymore, rereading would probably be a good idea._

* * *

Deep, hell-fire red met with cool, emotionless gray, the same lust for blood reflected in each.

"I tire of waiting. It's time to bring the fight to him."

* * *

The wind dried her tears in salty lines as Mina leapt between rock and sand, racing toward the water and the place she has seen his dark head disappear. Beast Boy was right on her heels, and luckily, he needed no instruction. She doubted she could have formed the words anyway.

A dark green dolphin disappeared into a wave, and Mina held her breath silently praying…each heartbeat pulsed loudly in her ears as she counted the seconds—

A dark head broke the water, gloveless hands clinging desperately to the dolphin's dorsal fin. Beast Boy put a hand under his shoulder, attempting to help him to his feet, but Robin merely shrugged it off, falling to all fours and coughing up the last of a lung-full of water. Suddenly hesitant, Mina approached slowly, watching as glistening drops of water ran down his face and fell from the tips of his hair.

"Can't get it off," he croaked. "Can't fucking wash it off…please—"

"Robin." Her voice came out in a quivering whisper. She attempted to strengthen it. "It's off, Robin." She took his hand, holding it up for inspection. "It's clean now."

His eyes shifted upward, locking onto her own. She had to fight hard to keep from backing up and dropping his hand. There was something wild in them, as though they belonged to a grizzly bear caught in a trap. They were cold, they were animalistic, they were broken. The imaged would haunt her nightmares for years to come.

"No," he growled. "Not clean, never clean." A chuckle, more than half crazed, escaped his lips. "That's just it, isn't it? He knew, knew from the second he laid eyes on me, he saw it, he knew…I knew—I swear, if you don't shut the fuck up!"

He jerked back, landing hard on the sand. His hands twisted in his hair. "Get out of my head!...Well that can come a lot sooner than you think!" Robin turned back toward the water, teeth grinding together. "Won't wash off…"

Beast Boy had been shocked into silence; he stood frozen where Robin had shrugged off his help, paying no attention to the waves that lapped at his ankles. Mina would never have admitted it, but a great deal of her was terrified of what was unfolding before her eyes. In the end, though, it seemed that pity, or the remnants of love, won out. She had no idea if she could help, or it he could even hear her, but it was worth a try.

"Robin, you're clean. Don't listen to him, he doesn't matter." He merely continued his (apparently) one-sided argument, showing no sign that he even heard her. Desperate, she tried the one thing that had always caught his attention. "You can't give up, Robin. Your team needs you. _Raven_ needs you, Robin. You're her only hope, and if you give up now…" She swallowed hard, trying (and failing) to choke back tears. "She'll be gone forever. Be strong for Raven."

He looked up then, breathing in great lung-fulls of air and sending them whistling past his teeth. A flicker of something lit his eyes then. "Raven," he whispered. The spark grew stronger. "Right. Okay. Back to business."

He lurched to his feet, gesturing irritatedly for Beast Boy to get out of the water and listen. "Gather the others," he threw in Mina's direction, hands feeling his pockets for a weapon count. "Prepare for the onslaught."

Mina nodded, and scurried off under his authoritative glare. She was well aware that he was only a fraction better off than he had been a moment ago, but a fraction was going to have to do. It was all they had.

It only he had known how close the "onslaught" really was.

* * *

Bruce was somewhat proud of himself. True, he had escaped from much stickier situations in his long career, but somehow this one seemed more like a triumph than any that had come before.

There was not much time for a feel-good moment, however. Alfred was dead at the hands of a sadistic animal, his son was at the mercy of yet another sadistic animal, and, as a matter of fact, his city was now crawling with sadistic animals. In the light of all that, a simple escape seemed pretty insignificant.

* * *

There was a very good reason why Hell is represented by eternal burning. Fire…a symbol for the slowest, most painful form of death.

But he was not dead. And after his near brush with Hell, he was going in his power to see to it that he never did. Eternal burning was just not his cup of tea.

For what seemed like hours, he could do nothing but scream until his voice was nothing but scream until his voice was nothing but a pathetic whistle. Darkness overtook him from time to time, but even in unconsciousness the pain did not cease.

Light was streaming through a makeshift skylight before he felt inclined to move. The smallest shift revealed instantly the reason for the horrible breathlessness that had plagued him. The debris from the skylight had settled on his chest.

He felt the skin on his hands crack as he moved them—no doubt he had attempted to protect his face; unsuccessfully, as it turned out. A shriek was ripped from his raw throat as he pushed at the rubble with nearly unrecognizable hands, only to find that pieces of skin had fused to the plaster. Parts of himself came away with it. The involuntary tears that streamed down his ruined face burned in every crack and crevice. His mind was as unrecognizable as his body, pumping with white hot agony.

He staggered to his feet some moments later, glad to find that his desk had at least shielded his lower half. His breath came in wheezing growls as he focused on ceasing the cursed streams of salt water.

It was then that his eyes landed on a shard of glass left from the window. A monster stared back at him, face a hideous lump of pink, oozing flesh, charred black in some places, blood red in others. The eyes were so bloodshot that their color could barely be detected. Nothing remained of dark, wavy locks. The thing was Jonathon Crane.

This time the scream was not one of agony, but bone-chilling, all consuming hatred. Revenge burned in his ruined eyes as a bleeding hand closed around the vial cushioned in the pocket of his coat. Slade.

* * *

She would not stoop so low at to follow Slade, instead matching him stride for stride, and when the ground became too rough for her liking, gliding. This clearly irritated him, which was her biggest reason for doing it. The human should be frequently reminded of his inferiority.

When the oversized "T" first came into view, Raven took an involuntary step backward, fighting a strange and uncomfortable feeling. There was an eerie familiarity prickling at the edge of her consciousness, as though she had known this place well in a former life. More disturbing still was the feeling that she was missing something, something important, something life altering…

With a snap like a rubber band recoiling, the feeling was shoved from her mind, leaving only mild excitement. "This is the weakling's headquarters."

"Yes."

Finally, battle was near. Although she doubted it would prove very interesting. He was hardly a challenge, and she assumed his pathetic companions were no different. Worse, Slade insisted on sending his robot army in first. Half of them would be dead before she even crossed the threshold.

She hissed at the thought, all four eyes narrowed to slits. If there was one thing she despised, it was a swift and painless death.

Slade let out a small sigh of satisfaction, signaling his army forward. Raven watched with growing impatience as they blasted their way into the tower. At the very least, _he_ must survive. He would be in pieces, writhing on the ground, before she let him breathe his last breath.

* * *

_Once again, Happy New Year! Be grateful that you aren't one of the characters in my stories. The next chap should be up soon. __Heres__ to being young and hopelessly drunk! (__please__ forgive any typos) -Dusty_


	18. Settling Scores

_Ha! So here we are. Sorry this took a while, I had to do a lot of editing and whatnot, but I'm pretty happy with the result...anyway read on. Please forgive any typos...I'm working with notepad once again.  
_

* * *

"Robin! Wait a second."

Her voice came through in a distant, distorted way--he felt vaguely as though he was in a fish tank with a little brat banging on the glass. He kept walking.

"Wait!"

And then pain lanced up his already throbbing arm. He jerked it out of her reach, stopping against his will. "Congratulations," he said through clenched teeth."You've gotten my attention."

The girl's shocked face came into view. "Shit! I'm sorry, um... Shouldn't we do something for that?" Her eyes lingered on the fresh blood that now stained his arm. "Shouldn't you do what I asked and gather."

The words were lost as the building rocked underneath them, pitching them to the floor. Thunder roared in his ears, and then the high keen of lasers... Every muscle in his body tensed to the point of pain. It was an all too familiar sound.

The movements were automatic, too quick to truly be observed. He had changed his course, at the same time pulling the girl to her feet and shoving her in the opposite direction.

"Go! Tell them what they're facing!"

He didn't wait to see if she'd listened. The elevator was too much of a risk if the power failed; he flew down the stairs, heart racing even though he felt bizarrely calm. Whatever the outcome, it would all end tonight. That simple fact was extremely comforting.

He hadn't gone far--in the dark, true to his prediction--when a dozen or more red eyes were glaring back at him. Laser beams tore through the darkness toward him--and he became superhuman.

That blackness inside fueled him as he spun, kicked, flipped, and rolled, breathing still slow and even. He was moving at an impossible speed while the robots were stuck in slow motion. Sparks flew as he ripped them apart with nothing but his hands and steel-toed boots, for once not disturbed by how human they appeared. Every neuron was firing, and he felt a cold exhileration vastly different from the fire of righteous judgement. Robin had never fought like this.

Soon he had torn his way down to the reception hall, now flooded with robots that came faster every second. He was immediately hit with his new role--blockade. If any robots got past him to race up those stairs, his team would have to face them. That time needed to be held off as long as possible.

It became clear, when a starbolt hit the nearest robot square in the chest, that it could be delayed no longer. A green cheetah tore past him as Starfire flew over his head, lighting the hall firey green. A hand fell heavily on his shoulder.

"How we doin'?"Cyborg had that cocky grin that always showed up when there was the promise of a good challenge. He was relaxed, happy even, as though this was the most certain thing in the world. And there was a sense of brotherhood in his question. Robin had had a lot of time to forget all of that.

Before he could choke out a response, Cyborg was in the fray, bright blue joining green as blasts tore apart robots and blew away chunks of plaster. He looked over it all, through the gaping hole that had been their front door. He saw the vast sea of metal. So this was how it would be. Slade hoped to wipe out his team complicate the final showdown. And, in all honesty, it looked like his plan just might succeed.

He felt gentle pressure on his hand. The girl...Mina, was smiling up at him, confidence shining in her green eyes. "Let's do this."

There was no sense in it, but for a moment, he let himself sink into those eyes, losing time and place. And in that moment, he felt a sharp, inexplicable pang of loss. Half-formed possibilities filtered through his brain, feelings that had no name.

It shattered like glass as the shriek reverberated in his mind. "Robin!"

Tears were sparkling in her green eyes--the sight was so beautiful, it took him a moment to follow the hand that desperately gestured-

A glint of blue, an inch of brown, was quickly being eclipsed by the grays and blacks of robot armor. They had huddled--twenty, maybe more--on the disappearing form of Cyborg. A surge of blue energy broke through, then another--and ominous crunch, the shriek of metal on metal.

He shoved and ducked blindly, half aware of the searing pain of lasers, eyes focused on the spot where his friend had been. A horrible inevitability screamed in his ears even as he pushed for speed through the paralysis of panic. He could see him now, canon arm in pieces, sparks flying from severred wires. The robots stood in a tight circle around him, their feet keeping him pinned to the ground as he struggled, mouth open in a roar of defiance. Every gun was trained on his chest, the heat radiating outward as they charged.

"NO!" he screamed. No sound came out.

Twenty lasers found their mark. For a moment, Robin saw only red, heard only the scream--then the light dimmed enough for him to see his brother blasted full of holes. Sparks flew franticly for a moment, then faded out to a dull fizzle. The mechanical eye lost its light, and Cyborg choked in a few breaths before what there was of his biological self gave out.

Quick. Brutal. Simple.

He half though it was an echo of Cyborg's dying shriek. He was more animal than human as he ripped his way through the circle, seeing red once again as rage pumped in his veins. He had room for one thought, and one thought only.

Kill.

* * *

Scarecrow watched the scene from the safety of his dark hood, eyes seeing Slade more than the attack. Even from here, he percieved the aura of arrogance in every aspect of his stance--the look of a man who knows he has won and is merely settling back to watch it al play out. The demon paced the ground in front of him, looking every bit like a caged tiger waiting for the feed. He doubted Slade would be able to hold her off much longer--would that put a damper on his evening? Would his pawn take away all the fun of the kill he had been anticipating for years? Wouldn't that be amusing.

Amusing, but irrelevant. He had little interest in the fate of Raven or her victims. He was here for one thing and one thing only. To watch Slade fall the considerable distance from his pedestal to the firey pit of Hell. He would suffer as Scarecrow had, know the sting of failure, and see himself bettered by a superior opponent.

After all, everyone has a weakness. And he had a fool-proof way of finding Slade's.

* * *

"Can we not at least watch the fight!"

Raven's frustration had reached fever pitch. She could no longer stand watching the robots pour into the hole without knowing what happened once they entered. She had to be in the thick of it, able to see it all unfold, to ensure that he was left unharmed... It was only her inconvenient loyalty to Slade that had kept her here this long.

Slade studied her, taking in the bared teeth and agitated clenching and unclenching of her fists. There was no need to push her already unstable wiring.

"Certainly. It was becoming rather boring, wasn't it?"

The last thing that stood in his way was about to be wiped off the map. Now that put a smile on his face.

* * *

It took a moment for him to realize the eerie quiet that had settled over them like a blanket. Twilight was deepening into night, smoke choking out the first stars. His chest heaved, lungs on fire, as he surveyed the sea of twisted metal limbs and shattered motherboards. Cyborg was buried somewhere in that mess...he shook slightly, feeling the inhuman rage beginning to ebb.

Starfire was helping Beast Boy to his feet, dabbing at a cut that streamed blood down his face. Mina, a large bruise blossoming on her cheekbone, was gingerly testing weight on her right leg, mouth twisted in pain. His team was the worse for wear, and with the rage he felt his energy drain out of him. He didn't have the give-a-damn to tally up his own damage, because at that moment, two figures took shape in the smoke that filled the doorway.

"That took rather longer than I had planned. Feeling a bit off, are we?"

Slade emerged, kicking his way through the mess. A bit of silver appeared, another substance clinging to its surface. Slade inspected it, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. "One down..."

The air came out in a low hiss as hatred lit him on fire once again, the familiar "kill" whispering in his ear. He had the source of every evil thing that had happened to his team and himself over the past years standing before him. How perfect. He moved to attack, unconcerned about his lack of weapons. Hell, it would even up the fight a little.

Robin saw her then.

The hood fell back, revealing soft violet locks and creamy white skin--the only detail that didn't fit was the eyes. They burned his skin like acid, brought involuntary tears to his own as they refused to blink. "Raven."

Robin expected the pain to come immediately; moments like these were explosive. He waited, eyes glued to her every detail, and she returned his gaze. She was sizing him up, red eyes taking in every bump and bruise, lingering on the poorly bandaged arm. Ice rain in his veins. She was estimating the time it would take to eliminate him.

But still she made no move to attack. Still her eyes bored into the wound. Something glistened on her cheek, catching the dying light. Tears fell from those bloodthirsty eyes. The room froze around them.

And then she seemed to crumble. Pain distorted her face as all four eyes disappeared, her head bent as though to shield from a blow, her knees buckling. The spell broke. Robin was at her side in the blink of an eye.

"Raven...baby, it's ok. You're ok." He cupped her face in his hands. He was affected, but in a very disconnected way; this was an extremely depressing movie, and he was watching anxiously to see what would happen. It shamed him, but he couldn't make the story his own. "What has he done to you?"

"Robin..." she choked, still hiding her face from his searching eyes. "Do you... Oh God..."

"What? What is it?"

Her eyes grew wide, purple and perfect. "Do you still love me?" she whispered.

Some of the ice seemed to melt, leaving his heart raw and blood-red. "Of course. How could you even ask?" His lips touched her fourhead, a tear of his own falling. "I'll always love you."

"Good," she mumbled, breathing deeply. The pain took him prisoner, slamming into him with such force that he lost all sense of being. There was nothing before, there would be nothing after. He was eclipsed, only vaguely aware of red and a once-beloved voice.

"This will be much more interesting, then."

* * *

Scarecrow was completely unnoticed, slinking as he was in shadow. Slade watched with a revolting look of ecstasy as the boy writhed on the ground, demon standing over him with cold authority. The girl seemed to be steeling herself for action--inevitably a mistake. The green one was down, the alien was confused and tearful. No one had eyes for him--not even his ragged breathing could be heard over the boys choked screams. It was almost too perfect--but after what he had sufferred, he would wait no longer.

Slade took a measured step forward, head bent ever so slightly the better to tower over his victim. The metal plate on the back of his head lifted, exposing the mesh that covered his neck. There was his opening.

* * *

The dart found his mark. Slade's hand shot to his neck, but it was too late. It's contents were already in his bloodstream. He spun on his heel.

"I've developed the liquid version. In fact, your my first test subject." Crane stepped from the shadows, the flickering back-up light throwing his face into darkness beneath the hood. "It's delightful, really. So much more selective than its previous form."

Slade's vision shifted, the poison already taking effect. Sounds seemed to reverberate before they reached his ears, as though he stood in an overlarge drain pipe. His flesh held an icy chill.

"Congratulations. I did not expect to have the pleasure of your company again, Jonathon. But I'm afraid..." The word echoed strangely, distorted as it left his mouth. He blinked to clear his vision. "That you will be disappointed if you expect this concoction to work on me."

A painful smile creased his ruined face. "Oh no? For someone so calculating, your arrogance makes you amazingly blind. while I was showering you with information...I was extracting some of my own."

Suddenly he could see past the darkness beneath the hood to the mangled flesh that used to be Crane's face. His startlingly blue eyes were surrounded by red, sagging slightly on the melted flesh of his eyelids. Blackened, oozing sores--a angry red hole in his cheek exposed teeth. It was the stuff of nightmares--but nothing he hadn't seen before.

"Impressive," he allowed, smirking under his mask. "But still--"

All blood drained from his hidden face. He thought he heard...but no--

"Daddy, no...PLEASE!"

The shriek echoed in his head, wrenching at the heart he barely knew he possessed. He was stunned for a moment...then his jaw locked, and he lunged. Scarecrow was ready.

* * *

Raven was furious.

There was no enjoyment in this battle. There was no resistance, no fire in his eyes--only submission. There was no challenge in killing something that was already dead in spirit.

Without laying a finger on him, she lifted him to his feet, letting him dangle there. "FIGHT, you pathetic worm! Have you no desire to preserve your life? Fight, and save yourself some humiliation!"

His eyes were glazed with pain, but they managed to focus on her blearily. His lips twitched upward in a smile that chilled her blood. "No."

She waited, but there was nothing else. Her eyes narrowed, rage burning behind them.

"Then die!"

She flung him from her sight with as much force as she could muster. He flew as though he weighed no more than a ragdoll. Then, impact.

Yet he did not collapse. His body stayed vertical, bizarrely rigid, face twisted in agony as his breath hissed from his lungs. She struggled to understand...

Then her bloodred eyes zeroed in on the jagged metal. A broken pipe jutted from his right side, holding him upright. Blood and flesh clung to its point. Crimson oozed down his black uniform.

"Robin!" So many voices seemed to echo his name, all with the same note of horror and disbelief. The girl was at his side, hands gripping the pipe as panicked sobs wracked her body.

"No...no, hey, look at me! You're gonna be fine, Robin, you're gonna be okay. It's not that--hey! Open your eyes...open your eyes, dammit!"

Blood stained the corner of his perfect mouth.

She snapped. Images, light, knowledge burned into her eyes, lit her skull on fire. After years had passed, they slowed enough for her to see his face, over and over, accompanied by violent surges of emotion--stop, please stop...

And then it was gone. She wanted it back--anything but this room, anything but the image that burned into her violet eyes. Richard...her fault, her hands.

Mina resisted for a moment, until she saw the pain on Raven's face. She took an almost involuntary step back.

Tears were threatening to blind her, her mouth felt too frozen for speech, but she forced the words past her quivering lips. "Richard...open your eyes. Can you open your eyes for me?" She lifted his head gently, panic racing through her heart as she felt how limp and heavy he was.

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple struggling in his throat. His eyes opened a crack, widened ever so slowly. They were clouded, but they still saw. "Please..." he gurgled, blood dripping down his chin. "No more."

The lump in her throat doubled, the tears overflowed. "No, it's me," she whispered, voice cracking as she wiped away the blood. "It's Raven."

He stared at her for what seemed an eternity, then recognition dawned in his eyes, and a smile so beautiful it broke her heart, lit his face. "Oh good," he mumbled, eyes drooping closed. "I was getting lonely without you..."

Raven touched her lips to his fourhead, whispering, "Wait for me." She scrubbed the tears from her eyes, clenched her fists, her jaw. It was time to end this...and she knew how.

* * *

It took a ridiculously long time for Slade to realize that something was awry. Not that surprising, considering the muddled state of his brain and the fact that Crane was putting up a shockingly good fight for someone who should have been dead.

Crane seemed to disappear entirely as Slade's attention focused on the girl levitating several feet above his head. She was chanting what should have been gibberish, slashing symbols that should have meant nothing--but Slade knew all too well what was happening.

Blinding light filled the world, slowly dimming to a growing circle of hell-fire red. A low, earth-shaking chuckle grated on his ears.

She was sending him to the one place he could not claw his way out of. A second time, at least.

He felt their eyes on him, eagerly waiting for that moment when tehy would see terror and defeat in the eye of their worst enemy.

Slade Wilson threw back his head and laughed. Even as his mouth ceased to move, even as his soul was wrenched mercilessly from his body, he roared with insane laughter. This was poetry. He could hardly have planned it better himself.

He felt the boy's presence as he, too, parted company with his body. He heard her shriek of despair and still he laughed.

Master and Apprentice were consumed by the flames.

* * *

_Okay, there she is. I know that a lot was left up to your imagination, but I had to cover a lot of different povs and still get the point across so... To clarify, Raven opened the portal to Hell, like in The End. She sent Slade back to Trigon, who I'm sure is eager to dismember him. Bwaha. As for why Robin was dragged along, you'll have to wait for the next chap to find out. Don't worry, it should be coming soon. -Dusty _


	19. In a Handbasket

_ok so...here i am with the last chap before the epilogue. damn this trilogy has stretched out...over years... sorry for that. damn my procrastination. ive just spent all day watching teen titans vids in hopes of reawakening the desire...anyway, on with the show._

* * *

To his own surprise, Robin was still conscious when he left his body. True, his head was pounding with blood, his eyes were black from lack of oxygen, but he was conscious. He didn't mind, really. The pain was starting to dim with his ability to feel it. It was almost pleasant to hang suspended in dark water, replaying the last few minutes over and over in his head. "No, it's me. It's Raven." The relief and happiness those few words gave him was indescripable.

And then came the terror. Sensation struggled through the numbness as a sickening tugging filled his body, like someone was mercilessly plucking at new stitches. Was this dying? No...he had almost done that enough to know that it was not nearly so painful. Pain was something that came with life. This was entirely different.

His last opportunity for comprehensive thought came and went as the gentle tugging became a viscious ripping. It didn't take long for the stitches to tear through the skin.

Richard Grayson knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was shrieking louder than he'd ever done in his life, and yet there was no sound. His body wasn't moving--he knew this for a fact, since it was in plain view now. He watched his final breath, watched the blood drip steadily from his chin... He could do nothing. He could not express the agony that was worse than any other. The body was no longer his.

It was not true that there was no sound. A deep, crackling roar grew steadily in volume, an earthshattering chuckle blending perfectly with it. It was uncomfortably warm, though he could see the goosebumps on Robin's skin. Soon warmth turned to unbearable heat, then a white-hot burning that only fueled his silent scream. He was without a doubt on fire...but where were the flames?

The world went black, as though his eyes had simply closed...and when he opened them, there was no sign of Robin, or the tower, or anything else that had ever made sense in life.

* * *

Mina was the one who had screamed. The sheer volume of it made her ears ring, the force ripping her throat. Robin's limp body shook uncontrollably, then went still, just as Slade's had done. The circle of hell-fire brightened until it blinded her, then winked out as quickly as a candle flame. Raven tumbled to the ground, breathing ragged and exhausted. It was the only sound in the ruined tower, the only sound in the world.

Dead...all of them were dead. Cyborg, Slade...now Robin. Her life had been simple--hard as hell, but straight forward. She lived from one meal to the next, slept where she dropped, made friends only where it was convenient. Until the day she was compelled, for the first time, to do something for someone else, unconditionally. From that moment on, her life had become a downward spiral, from one hellacious moment to another. And now the person she had risked it all for again and again was dead. Her old life had been sacrificed long ago. Now her new one was gone.

What.

Now.

What was there now?

She jumped at the noise, struggling to interpret it as it slithered from her ears to her brain. Starfire was sobbing, her face buried in Beast Boy's chest. Tears were swelling in his own eyes, soon to mingle with the blood on his face. The same look of desperation stared back at her from them.

"Raven." The word hissed out without her having any knowledge of it. Her feet moved without her telling them to. "Raven, tell me what to do."

The empath managed to push herself up on hands and knees, but she didn't lift her head.

The voice wasn't her own, and the words certainly weren't her own, yet they poured out violently. "You have to tell me what to do, you have to, he's dying and it's your fault so you do not get to give up now. You are not allowed to feel sorry for yourself--you're going to fix this damn thing, and I'm going to help you, and Robin's going to live out the rest of his life with you, because that is how its supposed to be." Tears were streaming down her face, but her voice did not falter. "Snap out of it and help me save the love of your life."

Raven lifted her head, haunted violet eyes staring, blinking in slow motion. "Okay," came the husky whisper. "Okay." Somehow it came out with no meaning attached. It was a default response, something that could fight through the hollow panic. A tear rolled down her cheek unheeded.

Mina took a step back, wrapping her arm firmly around herself to muffle the shaking. She didn't have the heart to continue her lecture. Instead she found her feet wandering, stumbling now and again on rubble...some of which could be Cyborg. Bile flooded her throat; she simply swallowed. Her mind was circling around the possibility that even Raven did not know what to do. That no one could bring him back.

She was outside herself as cold fingertips grazed an even colder cheek. But then...Robin always felt a little colder than everyone else. His lips had been ice against her burning hot skin; just as unmoving as ice. There was no response in them for anyone but his love. Such complete and unwavering loyalty was not something life had shown her. His eyes were still open; darker, somehow. Glazed. She felt no need to close them--he'd be back soon, after all. No need to shut the blinds. The fingertips traced his jawline, hovering over scars and cuts alike. The story of a thousand battlefields.

"You loved...love him."

She didn't jump; the voice came as no surprise. "Yes."

A hand gripped her shoulder tightly as Raven rested her tear-stained face against Mina's back. "Thank you...for taking care of him."

"I couldn't have done anything else." She had never told the truth so completely.

Raven wrapped her in a quick hug that somehow meant so much coming from her, then let go. "I'll bring him back." Starfire and Beast Boy looked up with little hope. Despair soon turned to fear as her meaning sunk in. Were they about to add her to the list of lost friends?

The empath closed her eyes, deep concentration pulling her eyebrows together. Concentration became pain; Beast Boy started forward--a gasp that forced the air from her lungs echoed in their ears...

Then she fell, her body as hollow as an abandoned house.

* * *

Hell looked very much like Wayne Manor.

At least he seemed to have substance now--the remainder of his shriek echoed in the cavernous great hall. His hands clutched at his chest where the tear was releasing its pain echoes. He took a step forward, and fell flat on his face. His brutal metal shoes were about ten times too large. Irritated, he tried to kick them off, but they stuck, his leg muscles shaking with the simple exertion. Made sense, they were little more than twigs.

He was too confused to be confused by this fact; his mind felt very simple. All thoughts of Hell were blown away by the much more important concern of Batman catching him with these shoes on. He scrabbled franticly at the straps, but his hands shook too violently to get a proper hold. Footsteps echoed from the hallway on the right, and his heart began to race. A larger-than-life shadow fell over him, and the hands froze.

"Take those off. You could never fill them."

An indulgent chuckle echoed in his ears. "Oh, leave the boy alone, Bruce. It's funny to watch him try."

He craned his head back and looked up, up, up, until the faces of Bruce and Alfred came into view. Robin joined them, a mocking smile on his thin lips. "To think you trained with the best...Pathetic. I'd be better off without you."

His eyes began to burn.

"You've got to be kidding me. The little baby's crying." Robin laughed, hatred echoing in the sound. "Do you miss your mommy and daddy? Too bad they're rotting meat by now. You should have gone with them. At least then you wouldn't have gotten the chance to disgrace their name."

"I thought I could make something of you." Bruce's blue eyes were as cold as the sweat that ran down his forehead. "I thought if I pushed you enough, you'd be worth something in the end. I was wrong."

He turned his back, and the room reached frigid temperatures. Richard's teeth chattered as Alfred smiled in relief. "No more pretenses, then." He followed.

Only Robin remained. "Look who's all alone."

"I'm not alone!" he tried to say; the voice was garbled, like baby talk. Robin threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"Hoho hoh you just can't get it! You are useless. What good could you possibly do, gimp? That kick was your only saving grace--they sure as hell don't keep you around for your intelligence." He crouched down, bringing his sneering face just an inch from tear-wet eyes. "Without me, you'd be nothing. I am free, certain. I know no fear. I have no past, and no future. And most importantly, I have no personality. They need me, not you. You they hate."

That's not true, said a distant voice. He didn't claim it.

Robin wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him. She smiled, turning cold violet eyes on the thing sprawled out on the floor. "As for Raven... Well, you might have been able to keep her, if you'd just been more like me. If you'd had the sack to do what you want. It was me that got her for you in the beginning, knowing all along you'd fuck it up somehow. Still, I gotta say..." He pulled her into a violently passionate kiss, the kind of kiss Richard had never been able to give her. His hands wandered shamelessly, and Raven gave a little gasp of pleasant surprise. Robin pulled back, shoving Raven aside. "This part wasn't so bad."

His stomach turned and turned until it resembled a pretzel. He wanted to look away, but his eyes were frozen. He tried to turn away, but his neck was bolted in place. Fire started to lick at his limbs once again.

"You wanna know why Raven's still with you, Richy? She feels sorry for you." Robin smiled, reaching out a gloved hand to stroke his cheek. "Her itty bitty heart would break if you went and offed yourself because of her. Nope, gotta protect crazy Richy's oh-so-fragile feelings. Guilt. That's the basis for your romance. Good enough for you, though. Your used to getting what you need from pity, aren't you, squirt?"

Tears flooded his eyes once again as the flames climbed up his legs to his chest. Sobs and shrieks issued from him without restraint, sounding far too much like an infant crying for its mother.

Robin ruffled his hair, laughing softly. "So brave. Too bad you're 'team' can't see you now. They'd be so proud." He disappeared from sight, footsteps growing fainter.

"Oh, and take those off. You're never going to fill them."

* * *

Nevermore was eerily quiet. The only sound that reached Raven's ears was the croak of four-eyed crows, circling in search of fresh meat. It figured, the one time she actually wanted her emotions...they deserted her. To be replaced with the horrible nothing of shock.

Rocky bridges wound down, floating in empty space unsupported. She followed them on autopilot, knowing exactly where she was going. It was the part of her mind she had always worked the hardest to avoid, so of course, its every detail was imprinted on her brain.

Soon the silence was penetrated by the crackle of flames, quiet at first, then growing in volume. The heat brought color to her pigment-less skin. Then the archway came into view. Images of the damned, twisted and screaming, were carved into the stone. She shivered as she crossed the threshold into Hell, knowing the carnal rule that she would not come back without sacrifice. A lake of fire stretched as far as she could see, empty but for the rowboat, and bird-human hybrid that held the oars. The River Styx, it had been called. The humans believed that once it was crossed, there was no turning back. Raven knew better.

The creature ignored her as she settled herself in the far end of the boat. The sickening smell of sulpher reeked from it as it dipped the oar methodically. She knew it was just for show. They would get there when the did, regardless of how fast he rowed.

Which was why the vast expanse suddenly disappeared, and she was facing the opposite shore. She stepped from the boat, jerking her cloak away from the flames. Now there was just the matter of meeting with Trigon...should be interesting, since she had thwarted his attempt to bring on the apocalypse. She was pretty sure he was still miffed over that one.

"Do not hide from me, daughter. I felt your presence the moment you crossed the threshold."

Apparently, stalling was not an option.

* * *

Familiar setting.

Broken screens became mirrors. Jagged pipes stood up from the ground like teeth. Catwalks dangling by a wire. Light let in through tiny fissures in the earth. Dust, everywhere.

All in all, a good setting for his personal Hell.

He took the opportunity to catch his breath, grateful that the burning had stopped for the moment. Yes...this was Hell. He'd finally died, finally been bested by science. He'd bleed to death, of all things. Now he was exactly where he knew he would end up all along. Murder...that one had probably tipped the scales.

He chuckled, low. Then the chuckle grew to a roar of laughter, sounding more hysterical everytime it rebounded. "If this is my Hell, I'm unimpressed! My life sucked more than this! Is this all ya got, you son of a bitch!"

"Foolish, Robin. You would have done better to enjoy your downtime."

The laughter was wheezy and breathless now. "You...of course. That's a shocker."

Slade materialized a foot away from him, head cocked to the side in skepticism. "What's your hurry, boy? You have eternity to be tortured, and trust me, the material will get old after a while. No need to run headfirst into it all. There's no finish line to race toward."

The grin was still firmly in place as he got right up in the pretend-Slade's face. "Look, if it's all the same to you, I'd rather not do the whole gloating monologue thing. Why don't we just skip right to the part where you beat me to a bloody pulp and show the world how big and strong you are."

Slade's eye narrowed. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Now you're catching on."

"You're so eager to bring on the pain...because the pain distracts you from the real wound. You can't stand the truth, can you, Robin? It's the words that tear you apart. It's the knowledge of your failure that stings."

The smile melted off his face, jaw tightening. "Get some new lines, please."

"You want new lines?" He was smiling, Robin could see it through the mask. "How's this one. You will never see Raven again."

"That's not--"

"This is Hell, you simpleton. Your soul is damned for eternity. That's an eternity without her. You will never see her face again." The laugh was low, like rocks grating against eachother. "And, of course, your usual response to her absence would be a longing for death. Too bad suicide is no longer an option. You're already dead."

Robin's mind fought against the concept in its hideous entirity, gripping the sides of his head, tearing at his hair, anything to distract from Slade's words. "SHUT UP!"

Slade gripped his shoulders, leaning over him until their eyes were level. "And this is the part where I hit you, right? This is the part where you pray for the beating to begin--you're just itching for that agony, aren't you, Robin? You want me to begin?"

He drew back his fist and shot it forward; Robin flinched, eyes shutting on reflex...

The blow never landed. His eyes opened to see the fist an inch from it's mark.

Slade flexed his fingers casually, releasing his grip on Robin, stepping back. "No...I don't think I'll give you that relief. This time, We'll use our words."

A howl of rage tore from his throat, rage that so quickly turned to anguish. Dirge for a lost love.

* * *

The narrow, rocky tunnel widened into the antechamber, where Raven froze, the taste of fear on her tongue. Her father's throne room was feet away...where she would have to beg and plead for the one thing in life that mattered. If he denied her request...could she fight all of Hell to bring him back? Was he already too far gone? And even if she did succeed...she would return him to a broken body. It was an utterly hopeless situation.

"Come in, daughter. You have kept me waiting long enough."

Her breath caught in her chest as she took flight, Robin's last words echoing in her mind. _"Oh good. I was getting lonely without you..."_

Trigon was just as enormous, just as terrifying as ever. His four red eyes glared down at her from on high--she fixed that quick enough, levitating until they were eye to eye. "I know what it is you seek. You will not achieve it."

Panic set in. "Father...he does not deserve to be here. He should have a full life--and a peaceful death. I--" She broke off, swallowing past the lump in her throat. "I didn't mean to send him here."

He laughed, the sound shaking the stone walls of his palace. "Yet it was you who killed him, was it not?"

Her heart froze in her chest. "I was being controlled," she hissed coldly, though the monster chewing at her insides had a much different story.

"I see," he rumbled, oozing skepticism. "Regardless of how this happy accident came to be, I will not release his soul. It particularly vexed me at our last meeting, daughter. Almost as much as the second soul you so kindly sent my way."

Raven followed his eyes down to the foot of his throne, where the rotted corpse of Slade crouched on hands and knees. A sick pleasure surged in her veins. "You will make him pay?"

"You cannot even fathom the torment he will endure."

Her stomach lurched as her mind returned to its objective, and the image of Robin suffering the same torment bit into her consciousness. "No... Father, please. You have to let him go. Robin...Richard doesn't deserve this. He's here because of me, and I..." She squinted her eyes to see past sudden tears. "I have to make it right. Please... Please let him go."

For what felt like an eternity, Trigon met her gaze, considering. Raven's heart throbbed with the intensity of her will.

"You know as well as I the rules for entering, and more specifically, exiting Hell. You cannot leave whole...and neither can he."

Her relief was so intense it flooded her eyes with tears. She didn't care how much of herself she had to lose, as long as he drew breath. "Yes, father. I'll give anything, anything to save him."

Trigon's eyes narrowed, a cruel smile distorting his face. "Excellent."

* * *

"Scream all you want, Robin. You can't drown out your own thoughts."

"Shut...up..." He choked, fire burning his throat. "Shut...up...stop..."

"Fool. This will never stop. Are you beginning to grasp the concept of an eternity of torture? More than just words now, isn't it?" Slade jerked his head back. "Open your eyes! You cannot hide from this, like you did in life. As much as you cried and screamed over your lot...nothing compared to this, did it? This is Hell. Get used to it."

Tears were streaming down his face again, no matter how hard he tried to stop them. The fire raced down his throat, setting his lungs ablaze. "I want Raven..."

"Do you? Now thats just too bad. Raven's not here. Now you have to face...your...demons..." Slade flickered out of existance, and Richard rolled onto his side, tearing desperately at his shirt, clawing at his chest as fire raged in his stomach...he could feel the delicate skin blistering--

"PLEASE!" he croaked, the scream only intensifying his agony. "PUT IT OUT! Someone..." The breath whooshed from his lungs as he was consumed by the inferno that raged inside him.

They all should die, really. Why keep them alive to pollute the earth? We have the ability...we have the power to crush every resistance. We could bring evil to its knees, we could create a new world where the innocent didn't have to fear for their lives. We have the power...why are we wasting this gift? This opportunity to became the protectors, the enforcers of justice?

Why don't I just kill them all? When all of them are dead...I won't just be the leader of my team... I will be the ruler of my new world. I will have the power to make those that once tortured me beg for a release I will not grant them.

I could make him suffer. I could taste the sweetness of revenge.

A howl of shame ripped from his ruined throat as his deepest, most disgusting desires were laid bare. It was in that moment that he knew he had earned this.

* * *

"Imp! Take her to the boy."

Just like that, Raven was dismissed. Her father watched her in amusement as she followed the hunched, deteriorating Slade from his throne room. He wasn't moving fast enough for her taste. She didn't want to give him the chance to reconsider.

Soon they were alone, and silence settled over them, save for the sound of Slade's labored breathing. He seemed to be fighting every step, as though he moved purely on Trigon's command.

"You're not taking him," he growled, turning his ruined face on her. Raven drew in a sharp breath at the sight, working hard to squash the fear. "You're not taking him...he's staying here with me."

Her stomach tightened, fury boiling in her veins. "You're never going to touch Robin again. He IS coming with me, and he'll be free from you. You'll never hurt him again."

"Hurt him?" He whipped around, his bony fingers digging into her shoulders, the smell of decay on his breath. "HURT HIM! I tried to help him, idiot girl! I gave him everything, I took him on as though he were my own son. HE denied ME! He turned away from my gift. I could have made him something great, I could have molded him into a true hero, one that wasn't afraid to do what's necessary. And I would have succeeded, if not for you!" He shook her, the light of insanity blazing in his grey eye. "YOU RUINED HIM!"

The energy burst from her, knocking him back against the rock wall. He slid to the ground, panting and growling with pain. "You forget, Slade. I know my way around these parts. You, however... In here, your nothing but a tortured soul."

Her cape brushed his hunched form as she continued in the direction he'd been leading her; she needed no guide...she could sense him.

"You're not taking him from me!" he croaked, the words echoing after her. "Do you hear me? YOU WILL NOT TAKE MY SON FROM ME!!"

She was running now, the desperate shriek standing all her hairs on end. An unexpected surge of pity only made her fly faster.

* * *

He was running, gulping down oxygen as though he had never breathed before. The burning had let up, though now he could feel the damage it had done. He didn't stop to catch his breath. He didn't shout for an attacker. He simply ran faster than he ever had in life, muscles screaming agony and lungs forever eating up air. Terror fueled his speed.

"Run all you want, Robin. Hell is a circle."

He began to slow, no matter how hard he pushed for speed. His legs were growing weaker by the minute, his feet dragging as though he was running in mud...the mud that flooded the cavernous entrance hall. It was too much for him.

A trip sent him sprawling on the ground. His brutal metal shoes were about ten times too large. Desperate, he tried to kick them off, but they stuck, his leg muscles screaming from the exertion. Made sense; they were little more than twigs.

A shadow blocked out the sun.

"Take those off. You could never fill them."

* * *

Hell was a labyrinth.

Tunnels twisted and turned, each room looked just like the last. Each was filled with tormented souls in various states of lucidity and decay. They tugged at her cape, trying to pull her from the air, begging for help. She would have been utterly lost if not for the pulsing signal that said Robin was near.

The souls began to thin out, becoming few and far between as she made her way closer and closer to the inner circles. Her stomach churned, hatred for Trigon pushing her onward. Why had he put him here? This was cruel, even for him.

The closer a soul is to the inner circle, the less aware it is. Hell becomes less of a place, and more of a state of mind. In the innermost circle, the torment is of your own invention--and thus, is the most unbearable form. Far worse than Trigon alone could ever cook up.

The heat became unbearable as she hesitated in a doorway, the room within lit by flame. Steeling herself for whatever she might see, Raven stepped inside.

He was sitting, just sitting. Back against the wall, hands limp and careless at his sides. The black suit was ripped open at the chest, revealing the gaping wound she had given him. It was bloodless, and obviously, it was not his main concern.

She wouldn't have known, if not for the eyes. The windows to his soul. They were alight with anguish. Her fathers words echoed in her ears. Never had she seen him in this much pain. It was as though he was hearing the worst words, feeling the most terrible emotions, and experiencing the most painful wounds imaginable. She would have been consumed with self hatred, had she not been to absorbed in the need to end his pain.

"Richard." It was barely a whisper; certainly not loud enough for him to hear.

What was loud, however, was the thunder that suddenly rocked the room. Chunks of rock reigned from the ceiling, the floor heaving under her feet. Terror gripped her heart as she sensed Trigon's betrayal. He wanted three souls, instead of two.

"Robin, we have to leave!" She pulled desperately on his arms, shaking his shoulder, praying for some kind of reaction. He didnt even flinch.

Her heart thumping wildly, Raven attempted to lift him, to fly...but she remained firmly earthbound. Another trick of her fathers. Desperation was fast moving to panic. 

_"Richard!"_ she screamed, all of the pain, the fear, and the sorrow forcing themselves into that simple word. It echoed only once, as the room caved in around them, and Trigon's fury filled her head, blinding her, crushing her with the depth of her failure...

But it echoed many times in Robin's head. It shot straight to the most basic reaction in his brain; to protect the one he loved.

He stood, balance perfectly steady on the swaying floor, scooping Raven into his arms and bending over her protectively to shielf her from the rubble. Then he was running, dogding the falling rocks, leaping over boulders, squeezing through the smallest places, following the directions Raven transmitted. He felt strong, capable, confident. He felt like a hero again.

"Hury!" Raven cried, her fathers fury doubling in force as they whipped past the souls of the damned.

A roar of fury exploded from the entrance to his throneroom as they whipped past it, Robin's feet never hesitating. The lake of fire came into view, Charon waiting to ferry them to the other side, by her father's order.

"NO! You Will Not Escape!" Slade's rotten hand stretched, ready to lock Robin in a vice-like grip. He turned for the barest second, taking in the ruined, fear-distorted face of the man he had once thought invincible.

"I'm not afraid of you. And you are not my father." His foot lashed out, colliding with Slade's shoulder and sending him crashing to the ground. With that, Robin turned and made a flying leap for the boat... They landed with a thud, as Slade's bone-chilling roar of failure reverberated off the walls.

That's when the true horror set in.

Raven shrieked as she felt herself literally being torn in two; Robin could not even scream as fire sprang to life in his head, his eyes... The pain consumed them, ripping and tearing and they ripped and tore themselves away from Hell.

Sacrifices were made.

_holy shit there it is! wow...it was extremely hard for me to decide how i wanted to portray hell...but i think i like how it turned out. wrapped up some important shit thats really been dragging on through the whole series... anyway, wow! review please, ill put up the epilogue as soon as i can. and once i do, ill have some news for you guys. peace! -dusty_


	20. Love Remains the Same

_wow...at long last, the conclusion to the abc trilogy. lol. Aftereffects was the first story i wrote for fanfic, and now, almost four years ago, the storyline is finished. I'm sorry this took so long to post; ive worked on this last chapter more than anything else for this site, plus when i was finally ready to post, my internet crashed for a couple months. i feel pretty damn great about how this worked out; hopefully i havent forgotten to wrap anything up. the characters have grown a lot...and if robin sounds very different from the way i used to write him, thats the idea. he IS very different._

_anyway, nuff explanations. on with catalyst!_

* * *

Fields stretched as far as the eye could see, yellowed grass swaying and rippling in the slightest breeze. He stood, no feeling in his body, eyes gazing at nothing, mind occupied by emptiness. There was only the shock of whatever level of existence he still possessed -- he had expected no such thing.

And as quickly as the truth of it registered, it lost all importance. He walked -- no, drifted -- vaguely through the tall grass, feeling himself sinking deeper into its protection, disappearing slowly inch by inch...

"Rich!"

The voice drifted pleasantly on the wind, interesting enough to make him pause. He turned slowly -- and then he was gifted with sight, a blind man seeing the sun. How had there ever been anything else but she?

Her skin glowed, as though infused with sunlight in its barest essence, her hair was long and free on the breeze. A smile lit her infinite eyes.

"Let's go home."

He drifted forward, victim to her gravitational pull. His fingers closed around hers, and all the heat of the sun roared through him.

* * *

Darkness.

At first, Robin thought he was still unconscious, forcefully knocked into a dreamless sleep. But no. Too much clarity for that.

Maybe his eyes were closed. He commanded the muscles, feeling the familiar sensation of blinking.

Darkness.

Panic seized him then, undiluted by the grogginess he had expected after their little ordeal. His quick breaths rasped loudly in his ears. Trigon had caught them, reeled them back in like a fish on a line. This was some new level of Hell, dredged up especially for him. Now, he would have to find blind.

And Raven? How had she fared?

"Hey..." said a familiar voice.

He jumped, trying to remember exactly how the mechanics of speech worked, and whether he should even use them.

But the voice continued.

"Yeah, he is...no, he just opened his eyes like, five minutes ago. Is she...? 'Kay. Will do, bossman."

Beast Boy's voice lacked much of its usual squeaky energy. Maybe his voice was finally changing...or he was simply exhausted.

A deep sigh, footsteps, the creak of a chair...

"You alive in there, Rob?" There was no hint of humor in the question.

It seemed to take the words longer to get to his mouth, but when they did, they were clear. "Not entirely sure."

Beast Boy laughed weakly. "Well, if you're talking and moving, that's a start, right?"

Robin's lip twitched upward. "Unless this is a dream, of course."

The smile died before it could be fully formed as Hell rushed to the forefront of his mind, and Beast Boy's question gained new meaning. "How long have I been dead?" The words felt absurd on his lips, no matter how true they were.

Beast Boy sighed deeply; clearly it felt just as wrong to him. "Three days."

He swallowed hard, bile rising in his throat as the panic made a comeback. His eyes strained against the darkness, no longer able to ignore its significance. Instinctive fear born so many lifetimes ago had his heart knocking against his ribs like a battering ram. He fought for a good breath to choke out the one and only question. "Raven...where's Raven?"

Beast Boy's voice had a new edge to it. "She's ok, Rob. She just woke up too. I think --"

He cut off at the click of a door opening.

* * *

He was flawless in the light of the meadow. He seemed to move with the grace of a lion, muscled shoulders rolling slightly, his bare chest capturing the light of the sun on perfectly smooth skin. There were no scars, no bruises -- no pain. Just perfection.

And his eyes...no longer a dark, murky lake, now a clear stream, crystal blue, noting hiding beneath the surface. They sparkled with child-like innocence.

His soul was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, and holding his hand was Heaven...

Until she fell away, and came crashing down to Earth.

Her body felt wrong, as though only half of her had made it back to inhabit it. Or maybe something was taken while she was away. With every breath, she waited for something, something so common place she could barely remember what it was, now that it was gone.

It was when she reached, spreading her dark feelers out in search of him, that it finally came to her.

There were no feelers, no supernatural sensors. There was nothing to reach with. There was only her body, only her mind. No Nevermore. No infinite space and gateways to other worlds. No emotions. No dark magic, no demon heritage.

Just Raven. Alone. In the tiny confines of her now entirely human skull.

Claustrophobia set in as she beat futile fists against her invisible cage, pushing and stretching to no avail. The walls did not give.

"Robin!" she cried out in her mind, desperately projecting the thought --

It rebounded, echoing back at her in the one, small, dark room.

Her eyes flew open then, suddenly vitally necessary, when they had always seemed secondary to her true sight. Now they were her only hope of finding him.

She was in her own room, but someone had drawn back the drapes. Sunlight made it nearly unrecognizable.

Bruce Wayne sat in the armchair, watching her silently. She would have been taken aback by the look on his face, had there been any room left in her for surprise. The usual dark circles seemed permanently etched now, bruise like and purple. Haunted eyes stared out of his handsome face, which seemed to have aged twenty years since she has last seen him. She got the impression that he was untouchable now, nothing anyone could do would compare to what he had already experienced.

They stared at eachother in silence for a moment, each acknowledging the other's pain. At last he spoke, in a voice that sent chills down her spine.

"He's in his room." He looked away, staring out the window at the steel waters of the harbor. It seemed a physical release.

"Bruce..." She whispered, throat tight.

"No, I'll find him later." His eyes closed, forehead wrinkled as though something was hurting him. "You're the one he needs."

She was frozen for a moment, desperate for some way to help him, yet knowing full well he was beyond help. Soon the panic was too much, the need to see Robin too great. No longer able to fly, she ran faster than she ever had in her life.

* * *

"Out."

The word was harsh, yet the voice that uttered it was like music. His heart picked up a steady drumming, every nerve on fire as the longing became unbearable, a terrible ache burning him up as he strained against the darkness for one glimpse of her face.

He heard Beast Boy's chair creak again, his quick footsteps, then the click of a door. No protest this time.

No sooner had the door shut than she was beside him, her warm breath on his face, her cold hands moving up his chest. He choked, a dry sob building in him; there was still nothing but darkness. Agony, to have her so close and be robbed of the beauty of her face, the intensity of her eyes.

And then she was sobbing too, a tear falling on his cheek.

"I can't...I can't feel you." Panic broke her words apart, tears dragging them up in pitch. "I can't --"

Then she was pressed tight to him, heat racing like wildfire across his skin until they had one body, one soul. Her lips touched his, and they responded ferociously, hard and unforgiving and desperate -- while hers did the same.

His hands flew, as though trying to touch every bit of her at once. One moment, stroking her ivory cheek, the next, tangled in her silky hair, now preoccupied with the smooth arch of her back -- hers did the same.

He found her name on his lips every time they left hers, soft and delicate, harsh and urgent, achingly beauty -- he heard his own whispered back to him just as often.

And still she managed to push herself closer, arms wrapped tightly around him, little sobs of fear ripping the air; it wasn't close enough.

He understood, in the most infinite depths of his soul, what she needed, what she had lost, and what he could give her. With a quick, controlled movement, Raven was buried in the sheets, and cold air grazed his bare shoulders. he captured her lips in earnest now, letting his weight crush her to him, surrounding her, comforting her, his hands gentle on her soft, fragile body. Whatever fabric separated them, kept them farther apart, was quickly disposed of.

He held her to him, but saw only black, the darkness that he feared so much. And the tears still streamed down her face, because she was blind in a much more vital sense.

* * *

Raven let her fingers trail along his smooth skin, tracing invisible patterns, writing love notes. He sighed contentedly, a smile on his lips, eyes closing -- no doubt he was tired. That was quite a workout, for a dead-man.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a shroud fell over her momentary happiness. All the scars were gone, except the largest.

It was a good six inches long, nearly one wide -- thick, zigzagging, angry pink. She traced it ever so lightly, her eyebrows pulled together as she felt the steak rip through her own heart. Her arm slid around him carefully, feeling the identical scar higher up on his back. The ridges of his spine were just a breadth to the left.

She drew in a sharp breath, pulling her arm back. "I'm surprised it didn't nic it..."

Robin smiled wryly, eyes still closed. "It did."

Horror filled her, her fingers automatically clenching on his arm.

He let out a subdued chuckle, eyes opening as he rolled his head to face her. She was still pained by the milky film that obscured their gorgeous blue; something he had apparently picked up on, since he kept them closed most of the time.

"Do I seem paralyzed from the waist down to you?"

She blushed automatically, then smacked his cheek lightly. "No, I guess not." The color drained from her face as her eyes were once again drawn to the scar. "Does it hurt?" she whispered, unable to keep her voice from shaking.

His lips tightened slightly, body tensing. "No," he said, too quickly. He forced a smile, letting out a long breath. "All in all, I think I got a pretty good deal."

It was his turn to frown now, as he reached out, searching for her face; she guided his hand. "Much better than what he did to you." Now his voice was shaking, his eyes somehow still able to reflect pain. "I wish I could have taken it all... He had no right, no reason to --"

She pressed a finger to his lips. "It had nothing to do with you. Trigon was simply seizing the opportunity to punish me for my defiance." She pressed her face against his palm, keeping it in place with her own. "In some ways, it's a relief. Now I'm cut off from Hell, from the evil of my heritage..."

The sadness in his eyes deepened. "And from all the good that came of it. From your mother." The sigh was more of a growl now, as his fist hit the sheets in frustration. "How horrible that must be... What could that have felt like...?"

She couldn't entirely suppress the shiver that rocked her frame. It had felt like someone was ripping her in two, or rather, gutting her -- scraping out her insides and sowing her up empty. It was a Hell the likes of which she had never experienced, one that she still suffered from.

She stroked his face, making an effort to smooth out the worry wrinkles. "It's over now; I adjust quickly. Besides, I still have the thing that matters most." She layed a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids.

The scowl vanished, to be replaced by a mischievous smirk as he gather her into a fierce hug, kissing her neck instead of her lips; a happy mistake. She was just as easily appeased. It was hard to feel pain for long, when they were finally free to be together.

* * *

Robin's fingers trailed along the wall, footsteps hesitant as he placed each carefully. He was forcefully reminded of a game he used to play when he was a kid -- tying a dishrag tightly around his eyes, he had tried to find his way to different rooms in Wayne Manor. Many antiques had been broken in the process.

There was something incredibly comforting about being able to take off the blindfold.

The bottom dropped out as he tripped, falling through the darkness, foot no doubt snagged on one of Beast Boy's shoes. The house wasn't exactly blindman-friendly.

A pair of small hands caught his arm, steadying him. "Careful there!" came the automatic response.

His face lit up, as hers appeared in his memory. "Mina!" Without thinking much, he caught her hand and pulled her into a hug. She seemed stiff, but he ignored this little factor; a hug was the least he could give. "I was hoping to run into you...maybe not quite so literally."

She patted his back awkwardly, and he let her pull away, keeping a hand on her arm.

"Why is that?" she asked cautiously.

He hesitated then, the tone in her voice making him wonder if he had acted with too much familiarity. "I just, uh...wanted to thank you for everything. It means a lot to me, and Raven..."

Her tone became worried. "How is she?"

Robin frowned. "I think...I _hope_ she'll be all right." He cleared his throat, in an attempt to dislodge the lump. "What about you? What do you make of...all this mess?" He laughed nervously, his mind flashing through everything that had happened since they met. He lingered particularly on one or two things.

She sighed, then withdrew her arm; Robin reached for the wall to steady himself. "Honestly...I have no idea. Everything's so..._I'm_ so different. I barely know myself anymore."

He could almost feel her blush as she choked back the words, afraid of saying too much. "I know what you mean," he said, gently so as not to belittle her own suffering.

"I don't regret it." How he wished he could see her face. He hadn't realized how much he had come to rely on it over the past months. "If I had it all to do over, I know I still would have pulled you off the street that day. Seeing you..." she hesitated, and he burned for her words, "Not whole, no...but happy."

The distinct heartbreaking sound of tears filled her voice. He reached to comfort her, but got only empty air. Stupid blindness.

"I think that makes it all worth it. I wish the best for you and Raven."

"You're leaving." It wasn't a question; the fact was plain and unshakable.

"Yes." He could hear her sniff, no doubt trying to clear her tears and put on a brave face. "I don't really have a reason to stay anymore." She laughed, like the joke was on her.

Robin wished he could contradict her on that statement. He wished he could say she had a home here, fighting with the Titans. But he and Raven could hardly resume herowork, Cyborg was...gone, and Beast Boy and Star were exhausted. There were no Teen Titans left. Just broken spirits and empty spaces.

"Where will you go?" He was shocked to feel his own eyes burning; this girl had become more of a friend to him that he would have thought possible.

"Oh, you know... Wherever the wind takes me. Actually, I was just on my way out..."

Shock brought him up short. "Now? But...aren't you going to say goodbye? Raven, at least, would --"

"No, no, really -- I'm crappy at goodbyes, so just..." She hesitated, and he knew this was about when she started biting her lip. "Just tell her to take care." Her feet shifted...

"Wait! Mina, I..." How to put this feeling into words? He reached to stop her, and she caught his hand -- out of courtesy. "I'm so grateful for everything, and...so very sorry for --"

"Shh, don't, Robin. There's nothing to be sorry for."

Dammit, why couldn't he just see her face! She squeezed his hand gently, and he stood frozen, wondering what words exactly were blocking up his air passages. All too soon, she let go.

"Well...see you around.," she said lightly, tears creeping into her words again. This time there were footsteps.

A large part of him wanted to stop her, to tell her to stay, even though it didn't make sense. To her a _reason_ to stay.

But before he could grasp what this meant, he heard the elevator doors close.

"See you around," Robin whispered to no one.

* * *

The tears seemed to have simply run out. Her eyes were bone-dry and burning, no doubt an ugly shade of pink. She focused simply on putting one foot in front of the other, still trying to convince herself that she was really leaving. More importantly, that the Tower, the Titans, and everything that went along with them, was no longer her concern.

That she was supposed to simply forget him. That he was happy now.

The fact that she was not didn't matter in this equation.

She seemed to grow colder with every step she took.

"Goodbye to you," she breathed into the wind. "Goodbye to everything that I knew..."

Her heart broke free from her chest, choosing to stay behind on the rocks.

"You were the one that I loved, the one thing that I tried to hold on to."

* * *

"I know I have to tell him."

The room was so silent that the clock sounded like a gong. Raven sat cross-legged on the bed, studying her hands, marveling at how untalented and human they were. She said nothing.

Bruce dragged in a long breath, as though just remembering he'd forgotten. "I don't know how. I don't want --"

She kept her eyes down, recognizing the hitch in his voice. He laced his fingers through his limp hair.

"I can't hurt him now. Not when he's --" He came up short, looking for the word.

She smiled wryly, then glanced up through her eyelashes. "Happy?"

His face could have been stone, for how well it reacted. "Happy...he really is, isn't he? _You_ have given him happiness."

Raven blushed, picking at a loose thread. "We've given _eachother _happiness," she mumbled. She found it harder to look at their long, complex history through her simple human mind. The here and now seemed to have plenty to digest.

The silence made her chance another glance -- her eyes widened, mind backpedaling. For Bruce now looked almost skeletal; dejected, haunted and resigned. It occurred to her too late what this concept must have meant to him.

"Family is everything to Robin. I think more than anything now, he's glad to finally be able to enjoy it -- and give it the time it deserves."

To her intense relief, he seemed to brighten a little. A tiny twitch (meant to be a smile?) cracked his scowl. "You really think you two will want to hang around an old bat like me?"

She smiled back warmly, placing her hands over his icy ones. "Unquestionably."

* * *

"What will I do?"

Her eyes looked less fiery emerald today, and more haunted forest.

"When everyone is gone...where will I go?"

Beast Boy caught the tear carefully, balancing it on the tip of his finger. he blew it away, like an eyelash.

"That's easy. I'll stick with you, you stick with me, and together we'll figure out what the hell to do with the rest of our lives."

He smiled brightly, though he was tired, though he was still reeling from death and loss, and change. He smiled just for her.

And she smiled back. Almost emerald. "Together," Star agreed, gripping his hand like the lifeline it was.

* * *

"Do you remember it?"

It was dark, both to his eyes and the rest of the world's. They lay in his bed, closely entwined, surrounded by shreds of ripped up newspaper. Her hair was on his face, her smell making his mind foggy.

_"Take those off -- you could never fill them."_

_"You will never see Raven again."_

His body was perfectly disciplined as the fire of remembered pain burned up his mind, his own inhuman shrieks ringing in his ears.

He let out the breath furtively; no hint of tension would give him away as he kissed her head softly. Simply inhaling her smell seemed a good antidote for any distress. "No, love. The last thing I remember is --" he amended quickly, feeling _her _stiffen now, "-- seeing you come back." He chuckled softly, running his hands along the fluctuations of her body. "I was on cloud nine."

They were quiet for a moment, each pacing their breaths to match the others.

"What about you?" His tone was guilty, as though ashamed for even bringing it up. "Do you remember...anything?"

_Robin writhed in agony, choked groans issuing from him in place of screams; she smiled. Amusing_

_She threw him with all the force she controlled, seeing her target with clear intent. A human dartboard -- but which was the dart? Her lips pulled back in anticipation --_

Raven was grateful that her body no longer told on her emotion. She shifted slightly, hiding a shiver by snuggling closer to his warmth. "No," she sighed, no hint of her incapacitating guilt escaping in the casual answer. "Only when Slade...put me under..." Pain wracked her body. And when I -- woke up."

Silence reigned once again, but it was fraught with tension. Robin held her just a little closer, stroking her hair and laying soft, forgiving kisses on her forehead. Raven placed the once-healing hands over the monstrous scar.

She didn't buy it.

And neither did he.

* * *

He looked good, considering the fact that he'd been dead a few days back. He was wearing his hair differently these days; no more indestructible spikes. It fell in natural waves to his shoulders. An improvement, if you asked Bruce.

The absence of his mask was good, too. It made him feel as though he had just run into Richard Grayson on the street, having not seen him for the last five years. 'Look how grown up you are!' he might say. Or maybe, 'Shooting up like a weed!' Was Robin this tall? He couldn't remember...

The difference only enhanced his awareness of his mistakes. He had known so little about Robin. He knew nothing at all about this boy.

Except the expression. It was compassionate, if a little hesitant.

"Bruce...I'm so sorry. I know what it feels like, to believe that you've lost...a father figure. I...I know what you're going through, and I know it's...terrible. But you have to realize you aren't alone." Whatever he was feeling over the news of Alfred's death was firmly suppressed. There was only concern...for Bruce. Guilt twisted in his stomach.

"Raven and I will be there, if you need anything. _I'll_ be there...as long as you want me to be."

He shook his head slowly, not comprehending the sudden loyalty. "Squirt...you don't have to do that. I'm not --"

"I know I don't have to." Richard gripped his shoulder tightly, his eyes still managing to flash that little fire of determination through the fog. Suddenly, Bruce felt like the youngster. "I _want _to. There's no way in hell I'm going to let you rattle around that house alone." He chuckled, slapping the shoulder in a friendly way. "Besides, who would tell you when to go to bed, or how much is too much whiskey?"

His eyes burned -- something that Batman was not familiar with. He felt himself wake up a little, the ache of loneliness now a dull roar. "Let's not forget who's the boss," he muttered, ruffling Richard's hair in mock condescension.

* * *

The day was free of rain, but unassuming clouds still blocked out the sun, settling gloom on the island and what was left of Titan's Tower.

What was left of the Titans moved silently through the rubble, each flinching with every step.

Robin found the pole he had been pinioned on less than five days ago. Raven came across a small bit of Cyborg's armor.

No one really knew what they were supposed to do.

Slade's body was a reassuring lump among the metal teeth; the birds had had their choice picking by now.

Blindness had not hindered him much in locating it. His other senses picked up its location with the force of an electrical current, and he knew this place so well he could almost see in his mind every rock he stepped on. He had little trouble, apart from the occasional stumble. The fear of falling was slowly leaving him as he gained confidence in himself once again.

Robin was fixated on the mess; formally the worst part of his life. His fingers trailed across the bits of ripped fabric emotionlessly; no eye gleamed from behind the mask. He removed it idly, letting out a pungent odor and a few random maggots. He doubted there was anything left to see, anyway.

"My worst enemy," he muttered, entirely to himself. "The insurmountable obstacle -- the horror lurking in the dark." In the absence of sight, it was easy to recall what Slade had been. "The voice in my head. The devil on my shoulder..."

He gripped the mask tight, oblivious to everything but. "And yet, just as susceptible to worms as I."

Raven's voice came from somewhere in the darkness. "Search his pockets."

He didn't question, merely obeyed. There was plenty to be found, but he soon felt the object she had in mind. His fingers closed around the ring, feeling the perfectly cut petals and leaves. He tucked it safely into his pocket, whispering an easy curse. "Bastard."

With that, he gathered the body in his arms -- mask and all, and carried it well away from the rocks. Shoving a metal pipe into the muck, he carved out a respectable hole -- deep enough to ward off all but worms -- and dropped the stinking remains into the damp darkness.

"Here lies Slade Wilson," he muttered, each word punctuated by a shovel-load of dirt. "May God have mercy on his soul."

There was no insincerity. Just an empty message -- and perhaps the hint of guilt. By all rights, he should be rotting alongside Mr. Wilson -- the burial was a very small thank-you note.

He stood for a moment over the settled dirt, each breath sending a pain echo through his scar -- nothing would shift it for several years at the least. Yet he felt no release -- merely repose. A smallish break. The typical breather that Slade allowed before his newest attack, designed to lure him into a false sense of safety.

_"Still lodged in that wonderful mindset, are we?"_

"Leave me alone." Robin tugged pointlessly at his too-long hair. "I need to think."

"Robin?"

He jumped, breath rushing out in a little gasp. It took a minute to compose himself. So easy to sneak up on a blindman. "Yes," he breathed -- statement or querie?

Her hand gripped his shoulder; he nearly shivered with the foreigness of it all. "They found...we gathered up..." She choked, the only sound the howling wind. She didn't need to finish.

Robin stepped carefully, and Raven led him to the edge of another hole. He was frozen -- what to say, when the dead was once a friend?

He felt, more than heard, the silent gathering. He shifted uncertainly, hands clasped in what was hopefully a reverant posture. "Dear Lord, our Eternal Father, we ask You to bless this grave site, and the remains that inhabit it, and we ask that You ferry this spirit safely to the other side." He drew in a deep breath, shocked by how well he remembered long abandoned principal. "Here lies Victor Stone, Cyborg, a great friend and a great ally. May his soul rest, forever in peace. Amen."

Four voices mumbled a subdued "amen." Robin assumed the duties of burial, shoveling dirt onto a person he had once considered his best friend. Nothing felt real, because nothing was possible. it simply couldn't be.

Once duty was fulfilled, the weight of inevitability fell on everyone's shoulders.

* * *

Raven remained firmly on the sidelines. She watched Robin with worried eyes, forcing herself not to hover, swallowing back fear when he tripped. she listened to his quiet musing with a sudden stab of uncertainty. it didn't sound like him at all.

Sometimes, every bit of him changed; shifting into a complete stranger. The words he chose, his voice, his mannerisms, the way he looked at her...none of it fit. She took it as proof of all he had suffered: a mental scar much like the one that marred his chest. She would simply have to find ways to bring him out of it.

While everyone's heads were ducked, eyes helplessly fixed on the jumbled mess at the bottom of the pit, Raven's were darting from one face to the next. She found herself straining her eyes more lately as she desperately tried to glean every last drop of insight from what she saw. She had never realized how much her powers for responsible for, until they were gone. How could people stand all this guesswork? It was so unbelievably frustrating.

And so she stared, comparing what she saw with the mental image of what she remembered. She started with the one that had always been the easiest.

It was hard to suppress a gasp. The Starfire she had known was one of simple thoughts. Morals came easily to her; the sense of right and wrong was instinct. So was the ability to find the silver lining to any situation. She was quick to offer whatever she thought her friends needed. Her only flaw was a certain lack of self-confidence; she was fatally prone to embarrassment.

The girl who stood at the grave, hand solemnly tucked in Beast Boy's, bore no resemblance. Her mouth was pulled down at the corners, worry lines permanent in her forehead. Her eyes were a tired, murky green. her skin had lost its healthy orange glow, her hair its lustrous shine. The bags under her eyes suggested a succession onf long, tearful nights -- but their was no emotion now. just an air of defeat, resignation.

Staggered, Raven moved on to the owner of the hand Star gripped so tightly.

Oh, Beast Boy. The eternal optimist. Physically incapable of withholding a joke in any situation. Whenever the tension was building, he was there to lighten it. Whenever anything was uncomfortable, he was there to change the subject. And piss a lot of people off in the process. Raven had always recognized that, though he was essentially a cheerful soul, his need to laugh when others cries was an inability to cope with his own emotions. And a desperate attempt to find his niche within the Titans -- and the rest of the world.

This boy was making no attempt at laughter. His green eyes glistened with unshed tears, his mouth tight, stress lines surrounding it. And that was it. She could read no more from the most expressive person she knew -- aside from the way his body was angled subtly toward the girl with the red hair.

Mina: gone. No goodbye. She hadn't really expected anything else.

Cyborg: too painful. Her mind shied away.

And then there was Robin. She watched him shovel dirt over their friend, not flinching as all the others did. He was (indirectly) the source of her greatest frustration.

No matter how mysterious or evasive he had been, Raven had taken comfort in the fact that she could always look inside, if she had to. Now that option was gone, and she was left only with what he gave her, only what she could glean with her eyes. And he had a terrible habit of portraying the opposite of what he felt within.

She sighed, realizing she hadn't been breathing much in the last few minutes. As her eyes wandered over his face, lingering on the mask that no longer seemed to belong there, she had to admit that this was not the thing that hurt her most. It was his mind itself that she missed, not what she learned from it. It was the act of being closer than anyone else could, knowing and feeling more than anyone would imagine. It was the flavor of his thoughts, and the way she saw herself through them. Security. Love. Entanglement.

No matter how hard she tried, Raven would never have that again.

A phantom pain shot through her chest, bringing tears that only grew stronger from the lack of reaction. She realized slowly that the others had drifted away, and Robin stood still, breathing hard, hand subtly placed over his chest. How much did he hide from her? What did he see, alone in eternal darkness?

She took his hand, understanding Star's tight grip as the simple contact soothed her raging emotions.

"I believe this is yours." His voice was rough, but she could tell he tried to soften it.

He took her hand, fingers tracing from nails to wrist and back again. He slipped the ring on its rightful finger. "I suppose a diamond would be more fitting," he muttered, still not quite himself.

"No," Raven assured, tucking herself into his shoulder and breathing deeply again. "This one's perfect."

She couldn't imagine wearing anything else.

"Raven..."

She stiffened, fingers clenched around him. His voice sounded so very like the Robin she had found pinned to the wall, the life flowing out of him with every drop of blood. She had hoped never to hear it again. "What's wrong?"

"Is it over?" he muttered, almost as if he was beyond caring about the answer. She felt him push his face a little deeper into her hair, his arms tightening around her waist until they were joined at the hip.

Her eyes burned with sudden tears as she rubbed his back soothingly, enjoying the silky feel of his button-up shirt. "Yes, Richard. By the grace of God, it's over."

Strange words, coming from a half-demon. But she found, to her surprise, that she felt their truth in her very bones.

He pulled back, his face set in hard, unreadable lines. But she could read the meaning in his kiss -- hard, soft, lingering...

He was sealing the deal.

* * *

_The Titans disbanded -- it was barely a conscious action. We all knew that our reign had come to an end. It was time to step aside, open the floodgates for the next wave of children who thought that talent and a noble heart could conquer evil. It was their right of passage, after all. Fading out was ours._

_Star and Beast Boy stayed together, as I'd always hoped they would. They depended on eachother, completed eachother. I like to believe they found happiness out of this nightmare, though I can't be sure. They ceased contact just a few years after the split. I don't blame them. It's all just bad memories._

_I never spoke to Mina again, though I looked for her when age gave me insight into what I had done. That last night plays in my darkness so often, as I see, through my own experience, what walking away from the Tower felt like; the loneliness and rejection that must have filled her, and the fruitless hope that someone would follow. _

_But the more I searched, the more I realized that, no matter how much I wanted to, I shouldn't find her. I can't give her what she needs, and anything less is cruel. Better to leave her alone to heal, no matter how much it hurts me._

_I saw her face once, in a small, black and white newspaper photo. A wedding announcement. I didn't recognize his name._

_We never did hear from Dr. Crane after that night. The final plans for Project X also disappeared; we assume he kept them for himself, plotting away somewhere out of sight. Or dead from infection._

_Hopefully dead. Most likely plotting._

_Bruce. How strange to watch the invincible Batman age and weaken. Losing Alfred took a heavy toll on him; after that, his strength seemed to go so fast. Not that he's stopped fulfilling his duty to Gotham. He doesn't have the excuse of blindness, after all._

_Seeing him so alone knocked down all the walls I had built against him. It was so clear that everything he had done had been a mistake born out of children raising children. He had done the best he could for someone who had no idea what family meant -- and all of it was done out of love. Any rivalry, any resentment I felt toward him seems so pointless now. He took me in when I had no one. I'm the only family he's got left, and I'll be damned if he's going to lose me._

_As for me? _

_It's impossible to simply drop something you've held tight for years, no matter how resolved it appears to be. Obsession has a way of worming into your personality until it practically speaks for you. Some days, I feel much the way I did that day Beast Boy pulled me out of the surf. Others, I'm just happy to be alive._

_I guess it doesn't help that the object of my obsession made more comebacks than Kenny. No matter how much I know that he is rotting in Hell...my mind still waits for that comeback. that final scream is still ringing in my ears..._

_But like I said, half the days every breath I take feels like its own miracle. I'm alive, and I can spend the rest of my life with the one I love. The memory of Raven's face is the brightest spot in the darkness, and her voice calls my heart to beat every morning. All the other details feel so trivial. After all, who could ask for more than half of perfection?_

_So here we are. The curtain call on this tale of unfortunate events. This is where we stand, after five years of Hell (sometimes literal) and insanity (sadly always literal.) Nothing is unchanged. No one is whole. But I still have the thing that matters most._

_Is it over?_

_Hell only knows._

* * *

_omg the end. i hope youve enjoyed the ride as much as i have! love to anyone whos still reading, love to all the friends that have disappeared over the process. thats all folks!! -dusty_

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